All the Difference in the World
by sentientmango
Summary: Slo-burn drama and political rom, AU, in-progress. Ben Solo inherited his grandfather's multibillion company, Skywalker Enterprises. Luke and Leia are anonymous masterminds behind a lobbyist group working to make public the ugly truth behind its operations and have recruited the talented Rey, who'll stop at nothing to expose it all. (TOC added in Ch. 1 for easier navigation)
1. Chapter 0 - Table of Contents

_Summaries, time frames, and indications of the romantic or adult material (R) for those who like to jump ahead_

 _If you want to read linear time lines, the flashbacks/history building chapters currently are:_ 3, 4, 6, 8, 10, 12, 13. _For a present-day timeline, direct yourself to chapters_ : 1, 2, 5, 7, 9, 11.

 _Feedback (criticism included!) is welcome and very much appreciated._

 _Trigger warnings may include death or implied death, unwanted sexual advances, sex, violence._

1\. Meeting Mr. Solo (R)

 _(Present day)_ Rey finally meets the infamous Ben Solo in a tense meeting that is the first genuine meeting between their opposing organizations.

2\. Post-Mortem

 _(Present day)_ Rey returns to the safehouse after meeting Ben and discovers there was more to their meeting that what she thought.

3\. Taking the Risk

 _(Six months earlier)_ Rey is an overworked waitress where an unexpected event changes the course of her life for forever.

4\. The Safe House

 _Six months earlier)_ Rey is recruited – sort of? – into Skywalker Enterprises' most loathsome enemy organization. There, she learns a little more about herself, too.

5\. The Break-In

 _(Present day)_ Rey has an upsetting encounter after she returns home after her meeting with Ben and meets a sympathetic and possible ally.

6\. The Recruitment

 _(Six months earlier)_ Rey learns more about the elusive HOTH, its people, and her place.

7\. The Once-Familiar Stranger

 _(Present day)_ Rey encounters a person from her not-so-distant past.

8\. The Decision

 _(Six months earlier)_ Rey realizes she's reached the point of no return and makes an important decision.

9\. The Confrontation

 _(Present day)_ Rey uncovers a memory of here encounter. She also reconsiders the kind of person she has become after an unfortunate event.

10\. When Everything Changed

 _(Ten years ago)_ The major, life-changing event that set the rest of Rey's life into motion.

11 The Probe (R)

 _(Present day)_ Rey's memories of her encounter with Ben come back. She enlists help to retrieve them fully.

12\. The Voyeur (R)

( _Two years ago_ ) Rey's roommate has a special guest that elicits certain.. feelings.

13\. The Propaganda

( _Six months_ _ago)_ Online "patriots" work fastidiously to try to denigrate Jedi. They're surprised when they come across something delightfully unexpected.


	2. Chapter 1 - Meeting Mr Solo

" _One individual cannot possibly make a difference, alone. It is individual efforts, collectively, that makes a noticeable difference—all the difference in the world!"_ – Dr. Jane Goodall

 _Present day_

Rey tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Her bun has loosened a bit, freeing some of her mousy-brown mane from its tie. But her hairstyle was the least of her concerns right now, though she felt just as wound up and tight.

She was in the belly of the beast, rocketing toward the skies in the elevator of Solocorp's headquarters, the tallest building in downtown Los Angeles, even taller than its parent company, Skywalker Enterprises' site. The imposing structure was built only a few years ago, deliberately at a height of more than 5 00 feet taller than any other building on the horizon, topped with a glowing, imposing red orb that pulsed like a heartbeat, acting as an eye to watch over everything. Its designer had called it "art."

The floors passed with gentle dings and with every number that swept by, her heart raced even faster. Her stomach itched to crawl up and out of her throat and her bladder quivered, threateningly. But she had to do this. She was ready. She _had_ to be ready. All of her training had prepared her for this very moment.

Her mentor's voice echoed in her ears, filled with encouragement and last-minute advice.

 _He's powerful, yes, but he has his weaknesses. Exploit them, harness their power they have over him, and you will win._

 _His grandfather's ghost may be the one in charge, but the strength is in Ben. Do not be intimidated by the elder and his legacy; it is Ben that you must overcome._

 _You are strong. You've proven it. You can do this._

 _Don't worry, you have this. You will win._

 _Rey, our trust is in you. The success of our mission is on your shoulders._

 _Rey, you can do this._

 _Rey._

"Rey? Miss Rey?"

Rey blinked to clear her eyes and mind. The elevator doors had opened and she hadn't noticed. An attendant, strong, tall, burly, and thickly-built, was waiting at the landing. He was a good foot-and-a-half taller than she, dressed in a pure white suit, save for a black armband identifying his status, and had a clear earpiece nestled in his left ear. A bulge at his hip hinted at a gun. His emotionless, brown eyes stared sternly at her, studying her, anticipating her.

Rey cleared her throat of the thickness that gripped it. "Yes. I am Rey Jacks." It wasn't her real last name, had she even known what it was, but it suited her fine. She squared her shoulders stiffly and gripped her briefcase tighter.

"Miss Jacks," he corrected himself. He gestured for her to follow him.

Her mouth was dry and she forced herself to speak. "R-Rey. Rey is fine."

He crooked an eyebrow. "Rey it is. Please, this way, Rey." He wasn't going to lead her, he was going to follow her to watch her.

Rey stepped out of the elevator, summoning all of the courage she had remaining in her body. It propelled her down the sterile and tiled hallway, her heels clacking rhymatically and echoing off the bare walls. She didn't have to look behind her to know that the burly man was close behind, ready to take her down if she revealed her tell. Purposefully, she strode toward the large set of double doors at the end of the hall.

"Rey is here to see Mr. Solo," the man told the two faceless and armored guards at the doors. They, too, were tall and imposing, making Rey feel tiny and weak in their shadows.

The one on Rey's right studied her for a moment. Rey wondered what sort of face was peering at her from behind the darkened lenses. Was it even human?

A gloved hand reached for the door. It opened silently and the guard held it wide enough for Rey to slip through, then quickly it closed behind her.

She found herself in a huge and lavishly-decorated suite. The floor-to-ceiling southern-facing windows were draped with heavy, red velvet curtains and tightly closed to where only a sliver of deep pink from the setting sun beamed through the seam where the panels met. There was a glass display case near the windows, encapsulating a full suit of samurai armor, complete with a frightening _soomen_ armored mask, its mouth twisted into a perpetual, ugly scowl and its empty eyes glaring darkly into nothingness. Across from it, on the other side of the room, was an entire wall dedicated to a map with twinkling, multi-colored lights which Rey presumed demarcated Solocorp's global assets if anything could be gleaned by a dozen analog clocks above the map displaying various time zones. Her footsteps were silenced by the plush carpet that carved a path through the polished hardwood, the carpet leading to a heavy oak desk in the center of it all. And near that, hard to see in the dim light, was another display case, smaller in size but more frightening in contents – a shape that was undeniably a chalk-colored human skull.

However, nothing set Rey's nerves on edge more than the intimidating figure that rose from the chair behind the desk.

"Miss Rey."

Ben Solo's voice was rich, deeply-toned and deeply unsettling. His figure unraveled itself as he stood up, revealing his awkwardly tall form and gangly limbs, which made him appear slightly less than human. But under the creases of his black and tailored suit, Rey could see the tautness and curves of pure, solid muscle. His black hair fell in gentle waves just below his ears and was carelessly brushed back with nary a product to keep it in place, which was surprising considering every other part of him was meticulous and clean and perfect. It was the only thing unkempt about him.

"Mr. Solo," she responded, calmly and evenly. She hoped he couldn't hear the tremor that gripped her.

"Please." He swept an open hand toward the leather wingback chair nearest to her, close to his desk.

Her feet somehow carried her down the carpeted path and led her firmly to the chair. She sat down, laying her briefcase across her lap. Her skirt was short, she noticed. Too short for her liking or her comfort. She pressed her thighs tightly together, hoping she could seal herself from him.

He didn't seem to notice her nervousness. His eyes fixated on hers the moment she walked in. She wasn't even sure if he had blinked.

"I must say, it came to me as a surprise that HOTH sent you," he murmured. HOTH's meaning was argued about often in media, as the acronym was never revealed. Volleys from the political side opposite to that of HOTH liked to snidely comment it stood for "Hippies on the Hunt" on account of the organization's contentious and sometimes aggressive nature of advancing its environmental agenda.

Rey resisted letting her sudden irritation bristle but she could feel the heat burst in her cheeks. How quick he was to already parley and so snidely! She mentally withdrew her sword and honed it with her words.

"I assure you, Mr. Solo, that I am more than competent in coordinating our shared interests' transaction," she retorted with only the tiniest edge in her tone. "I know that I am not a familiar face like ones you have dealt with in the past, but do not let my appearance deceive you into presuming I am incapable of performing."

Ben listened attentively and if he had any reaction to what she had said, he did not reveal it. His eyes scanned her, top to bottom, in the quickest of a nanosecond, then he sat down. She felt uncomfortably violated.

He absentmindedly twiddled a pen in his hand, seemingly preoccupied with nothing important. "I want to hear it from you, then," he said finally. "I've been talked to near death by my advisers and lawyers, all of whom strongly suggested I not even entertain this meeting."

He tossed the pen and it rolled away from him, coming to a gentle stop with a _clink_ against an empty water glass. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk and tented his fingers under his chin. "Humor me, Miss Rey. Why is HOTH wanting to partner with a corporation that they once called – and correct me if I'm misquoting this – 'a dark force, hungrily preying upon our planet, and seeks little more than to further fatten the larders of the Skywalker capitalist monarchy at the expense of raping our resources until our rivers run befouled, our air unbreathable, and our land scoured.' That was something you had written on behalf of your employer, correct?"

Rey mentally saw herself fumble and drop her sword. Her guard dropped; she felt him prodding her vulnerabilities.

He quirked an eyebrow, expectantly. Rey cleared her throat and forced herself to bore her gaze into his eyes.

"I did. Does it bother you to hear the truth, Mr. Solo, or is that something your grandfather fastidiously worked hard to hide from you, too?" A couple of months before the patriarch had mysteriously died, Ben repeatedly renounced the accusations that the company under the leadership of his grandfather was involved in some unscrupulous human rights violations in the Middle East. Later, when the violations were found out to be true, some intrepid undercover audio recording captured a few seconds of Ben's temper tantrum where he swore he didn't know and grandpa had hidden it from him "like the other things."

The corner of Ben's mouth twitched, almost imperceptibly but she saw it. Pleased, her mind reached for her sword and picked it up, ready to continue; the walls rose up again and his touch withdrew.

His lips pressed into a tight, restrained smile. "No, it doesn't bother me to hear the truth," he said. "Every great man needs to be reminded to keep in check now and then. It's important to listen to every criticism."

Rey wanted to remark on his choice of words – _great man, ha!_ She chuckled inside, but immediately guarded her mind. Half of this battle was keeping her wits and not letting him harvest any of her thoughts.

"I didn't come here to exchange insults, Mr. Solo," she apologized, genuinely. "I'm here hoping that we can bridge the chasm between our organizations and unite for a common goal."

"Which is?" he prodded.

She smirked. She placed her briefcase on the other chair next to her and rose to full height. In her mind, she was distancing herself from him and dancing around, afraid to jab.

"I think you understand," she said, turning away from him and striding to the windows. With a jerk of her hand, she whipped open one of the panels to reveal the stunning view overlooking Los Angeles.

A low-hanging fog had settled over the city. From her vantage point, it looked like a fluffy, grey sea had rolled in. Other buildings broke through the clouds, some reaching more triumphantly than others, but none as high as the one she was in. Thousands upon thousands of city lights twinkled and burned, creating an eerie but beautiful fuzzy glow. To the north, she could see the craggy mountains in the distance, blanketed in darkness with a subtle light cast down by the full moon. The glass was misted with dew from a gentle rain that must have passed only recently. She was overwhelmed by such a beautiful sight.

"I do?" his voice murmured into her ear.

She gasped, startled. She kicked herself for reacting out loud. But she wouldn't turn to face him, and stared steely out the window, trying to avoid the gaze of his reflection. From the corner of her eye, she could see his distorted form behind her, dangerously close, but not touching.

"I think your motivations and HOTH's are quite the same, Mr. Solo," she said, fixing her eyes toward the sky. "The next venture is not entirely of this planet. We both know that. We also know that your resources are depleting and Skywalker Enterprises has made some unfortunate investments in underperforming and nonrenewable markets. Our planet is also enduring some of the most cataclysmic forces it has ever known and we are dangerously edging toward the precipice. If there should be any hope for us all, you'd be wise to take your resources and our knowledge or else there won't be any place on this earth alive to hold your larders."

She sensed - no, _tasted_ – his energy resonating off of him. She knew he was perceptive to forces, but she was too, but she was not ready to reveal her trump card. The whole purpose to engage with him was to assess his strength and let him pick around in her mind a bit, swaying him where she could. But this was something different, something she hadn't sensed in her training. There was something animalistic in what she was registering. Anger. Fury. Truth. Heat. Sensuality.

His voice was closer, thicker. "Then perhaps, I should investigate this matter further."

The little hairs on her neck and shoulders prickled in feeling his breath on her skin and hearing his purr in her ears, but she stood strong. "Yes, you should." She spun on the balls of her feet and strode back to her seat, where she snatched her briefcase and dropped it with an authoritative _thud_ on his desk. She flicked the latches open and withdrew a thick binder with a glossy cover and held it out to him. Ben, surprised that his tactic wasn't entirely successful, cautiously approached her and took the binder from her.

"Review it, if you would," Rey said, locking her briefcase and making a move for the door. "My people would prefer you know what you're getting into and don't mind having your legal team look over it. When can I expect a response?"

Ben stared at the binder in his hands and then at Rey, then back at the binder. "Two days," he said, gruffly. "You'll have an answer within forty-eight hours. This time on Sunday."

Pleased, Rey nodded her head politely. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Solo." Her heart pounding, she reached the door and just as she touched the handle, his voice rang strong and clear.

"I will discuss the decision with you," he declared. "In person."

She hesitated, her fingers just brushing the metal of the door knob. "Then, I will await your call. Thank you for your time, Mr. Solo." She opened the door, closed it behind her, and felt his fury radiate.


	3. Chapter 2 - Post-Mortem

_Present day_

Rey didn't remember walking down that hallway, nor waiting for the elevator, nor confidently striding out of Solocorp's building, nor running across the street to the parking lot, and didn't feel a little more at ease until she sat in her car and released the breath she must have been holding the entire time.

She glanced at the clock on her dash. It was almost nine o'clock but she could barely register the what it meant. She felt suddenly drained. Her hand trembled as she opened the glove box and found her burner phone. There were a dozen missed calls and many text messages waiting.

 _CALL ME_

 _Are you okay?_

 _Rey, are you safe?_

 _Is it over?_

 _How did it go?_

 _Is everything okay?_

 _Good luck – you got this._

Rey exhaled a heavy sigh and scrolled through her contacts to reach her mentor, who picked up before the phone could even complete its first ring.

"Rey!" the voice of Leia cried out. "Thank the Maker! You didn't check in! I was so worried."

"I know, I'm sorry. Everything's fine."

"Are you sure?" Leia's voice was tentative. "Did the rain give you much trouble?" It was her signal.

"Only clear skies here," Rey responded in her code.

A relieved gasp pierced Rey's ear through the tinny speaker. "Well, hurry up now. We're waiting for your report. Get back safe – and fast."

Rey was drained. "Roger, roger," she said, weakly, disconnecting the call. She tossed the phone on the passenger seat and dropped her head on the steering wheel.

His face kept replaying in her mind. The way he rose from the desk. The way he stared at her, studying her. The hot breath on her neck, the things she wondered that he could do with those long fingers and –

 _He's watching_.

Unhurriedly, she lifted her head from the steering wheel. She slid the key into the ignition and as she backed out of her parking spot, she gazed up toward the imposing building. The fog had cleared quite a bit, and she could swear, just below the menacing red eye, there was a man looking down toward her. In her mind, she saw his tense form peering through the glass, trying to glimpse the tiny ants and cars below. But then he sensed her intrusion, snapped the curtains closed, and turned off the lights.

Her skin erupted into goosebumps. It almost felt like he was in there with her, but when she looked back up, the top floors of the building were dark and there was nothing but the steady pulse of the red, red light.

###

By the time she navigated through the late rush hour traffic via a jagged and confusing route intended to thwart any followers, it had been well over an hour since she had left Solocorp. She parked her car under a jacaranda tree of which its rich, lavender blooms were turning yellow in the autumn air. Waiting a few minutes to ensure there were no suspicious headlights or foot traffic nearby, Rey climbed out of car when it was safe to and started toward the safe house a block away.

She hugged her purse tight to her body. It was unusually cold for a Southern California evening, even for November. The only sounds she could hear were the noises of the nearby freeway and her heels scraping on the cement sidewalk. She felt on particularly high alert and mentally reached out in her general vicinity but could detect nothing of particular ferocity. Still, she felt scared and quickened her pace.

She reached the house, a midcentury modern home modest by comparison to others in the neighborhood. It seemed like such an ostentatious location to have a secret hide out, but perhaps that was the whole point was to make it appear to be completely unusual and therefore completely unlikely that this was one of the hideouts for the great minds behind HOTH.

Rey knocked a pattern on the front door, which opened just wide enough to receive her then slammed shut.

"I was worried sick! What took you so long?" Leia exclaimed, grabbing Rey by the shoulders. She meant not only the time spent at the meeting but also the drive back.

"I wanted to make sure I wasn't being followed," Rey sighed, kicking off the exhaustive heels. "Besides, there must have been something going on. A concert, maybe? Took me nearly half an hour to creep just a few miles at one point."

Leia set her lips into a tight line, displeased with that answer with a look of concern crossing her face. "That is unusual," she agreed. "But I'm glad you're here safe."

"I need a drink."

The two women headed toward the kitchen, where Leia grabbed a couple plastic red cups and a bottle of red. They took their drinks into a back room, where a couple others were waiting for the debrief.

"Rey." Luke nodded politely as the young woman flopped onto the old couch. His face was hard to read through his unruly and thick beard and shaggy hair, but his eyes were calculating and wary.

Leia closed the door and the room was plunged into near-darkness, save for the flickering and glowing lights from the arrays of computers and monitors haphazardly assembled on a couple of folder tables in the corner.

"How'd it go?" Finn flicked on a lamp over her head and Rey grimaced at the harsh light.

"What's with the interrogation?" she said lightly, as she accepted a cup of wine from Leia.

Finn grinned. "Relax, Rey. I'm not going to interrogate you like you guys did to me." He cast a _look_ toward the twins, reminded of the time he surrendered himself to HOTH after leaving the Skywalker Enterprises's security detail.

"She's nervous," Luke said, more to Leia than the others. His sister had an expression that said " _no duh_." He leaned back in the folding chair and crossed his arms over his chest. "She's attracted to him."

Rey shrugged, resigned. She pretended to not acknowledge the slightly wounded look that came across Finn's face. She wasn't going to argue; Luke's skills surpassed hers. It was no point trying to hide her feelings.

"You mustn't let him win you over," Leia warned, putting a hand on Rey's knee. "He can be… charismatic in his own way, for certain. But you are strong. You are in the Light, where he has succumbed to such darkness." A faraway look appeared in Leia's eyes; sad, distant, and nostalgic. "There's still good in him, I know it, and if you can draw him back to it, even better." Her eyes darkened. "But don't let him pull you in with him. Don't try to save him and sacrifice yourself in the process."

Rey didn't answer. She took a hearty swig of her wine and gnawed on the rim of the plastic cup. "He said he'll call me. Tomorrow. He'll have his answer then."

Even that surprised Luke.

"Tomorrow?" Finn echoed. "Hardly a day and you mean-"

Leia frowned and got to her feet. "This is escalating faster than we had expected. We need to move some things ahead of schedule." She glanced down at Rey, who was still nursing at her cup of wine. "Rey, what happened? What took so long?"

Rey furrowed her brow. "What are you talking about?"

"Your appointment was at six."

"Right, and I was there maybe 20 minutes? Took me an hour to get here, I already told you. I was worried I was followed."

"Rey." Finn's voice was low. "It's a quarter to eleven. You were there for over three hours."

Rey almost choked on her wine. "What are you talking about?" But that horrible feeling came over her again. The clock on the dashboard. That time hadn't registered with her then.

"Rey, you need to tell us what happened. Everything you can remember." Luke's voice sounded more concerned than she had ever heard before.

Slowly and painstakingly, Rey retold the story, from flashing her identification at the front desk, to taking the elevator, to being escorted by the guard, to seeing _him._ Sensing him, speaking with him on a whole other level, absorbing the smells and emotions that emanated from him. She left out the dirtier bits, those intuitive feelings she picked up of his and the ones she felt, because she didn't think Finn needed to know.

"I really only thought I was there for maybe thirty minutes, tops," she murmured, refilling her own wine cup. "But I could barely remember the walk back to my car."

Luke and Leia exchanged glances and spoke in a silent way that only the siblings knew how, with their eyes and thoughts.

"You've been compromised," Luke stated.

"Thank the Maker we didn't tell her more than she needed to know," Leia gasped, clapping her hands over her forehead.

The fog was lifting from Rey and her energy was returning. A sudden wash of disgust crashed over her and she wanted to throw up by what those words meant. "What do you mean?"

"He got into your head," Luke responded. "And maybe more."

Rey bristled and slammed her cup on the ramshackle coffee table. Some wine splashed out and stained the cover of an older copy of _Time_ magazine that had the recently-deceased Anakin on the cover, standing behind Ben like a nefarious shadow. "What are you implying? That you can't trust me? That's I'm so weak-willed?"

Leia's hands reached for the back of Rey's neck, who instinctively cried out and recoiled at the touch.

"Well, at least her clothes aren't inside out," Leia commented, dryly.

Rey clutched at the neckline of her own blouse. It was a stupid, professional, frilly thing that she loathed wearing but it made her look the part. Now, she just wanted it off. "You're saying he raped me?!"

Luke shook his head. "No, not in _that_ way." He hesitated. "Probably not."

Leia could see Rey's anger flare. She sat on the arm of the couch and tenderly rested her hands on the young woman's shoulders. "Rey, listen to me. You were scheduled to meet him at six. The sun was setting then. By the time you left, it was dark. You said the car's clock read nine. You called me shortly thereafter and it took you over an hour to get back here. What happened in those three hours? Something had to have happened."

Tears unexpectedly sprung to Rey's eyes and she angrily rubbed at them, furious her emotions were getting to the better of her. "I don't know."

Luke frowned. "Leave us."

Leia and Finn rose and left the room without a word. Luke pulled his chair closer to Rey, who was now fiddling her fingers in nervousness.

"Rey, I need you to open up to me," Luke said, softly. He reached over to take her hands in his. His gnarled, thick hands, with their calloused palms were strangely soothing when wrapped around hers that were smooth but trembling.

"What have I done?" she whimpered in barely a whisper.

"It was nothing of your fault," he assured her, stroking his thumbs over the tops of her hands. His voice was gentle, calm, and hypnotizing. "Rey, you need to relax. You're safe here with us. Let me in."

Rey's will faltered and her hands grew limp. But just as he was about to prod her memories, Rey's head whipped up and she pulled away.

"No," she hissed. "I'm done for tonight." She pushed away from the couch and tore the door open, startling Finn and Leia who were sitting outside.

"Rey—" Leia started.

"No! I'm done. I'm going to see him tomorrow, as we planned." Rey shrugged away Finn, who tried to reach out and grab her, and stormed out the front door.

It was colder outside, but the heat roiled inside her and Rey quickly made it back to her car. It was coated in the dead blossoms felled by the jacaranda tree. An irritable rage surged through her and suddenly, as if the car were rocked by an invisible force, all of the stupid flowers _poofed_ away and dropped to the ground.

Rey unlocked the car without touching the fob and climbed in. The engine roared to life and she took off for home, _her_ home, the shitty apartment away from here, where she could be alone with herself and away from _them_.

"She's leaving." A man in a black car a few spaces down spoke to an unseen listener. He tilted his head and watched as her car squealed down the street. "Should I engage?" He paused, listening for a response. "Understood. I'll keep my distance and keep you updated." He shifted into gear and tapped the display of his car's touchscreen. A little dot palpitated as it moved north, leading inevitably toward Rey's apartment. "Tracking is engaged. I'm on it."


	4. Chapter 3 - Taking the Risk

_Six months earlier_

The din inside the café was deafening, just like it was every weekend. Rey wondered how many Sunday brunches she had worked and felt depressed when she lost count.

She hurried over to the barista and slammed down a ticket. "Please, please, I need these drinks as fast as you can," she implored. "I forgot to drop it off earlier and table seven's going to lose their minds if their kids don't get their almond milk hot chocolates."

Kelly shot a sympathetic glance at Rey and dumped a couple of espresso shots into a waiting mug. "It's a zoo out there," she said, shoving Rey's ticket to the front of her line. "Need something yourself?" Kelly shoved a metal pitcher under the wand and the shriek of the steam hissing was almost as bad as the baby screaming across the restaurant.

"Maker, _yes_ ," Rey groaned, just as the pager on her hip angrily buzzed. "Triple americano. Black." She started for the expeditor's window. "Wait - with some whipped cream! And sprinkles!"

"Rey, table nine's up!" The expo tore some tickets from the order wheel, pushed them under some waiting plates, and quickly arranged some sliced oranges as garnishes. A few other servers milled around, grabbing other dishes and drinks and dodging each other like the most awkward and fast-paced, but strangely well-orchestrated, waltz.

Rey snatched a tray and piled the steaming hot plates on top. "Corner!" she yelled, rushing away from the expo and back into the cacophony.

She hated brunch with a passion, especially _today_. It was bad enough to keep the mimosas flowing for the tables full of cackling 20-somethings and tending to the grossly hungover groups – those people tipped well but smelled awful and could never slake their thirst for hair of the dog beverages. And other people liked to think a restaurant outing meant letting their screaming monkey children take full ownership of the space, and Rey often scraped one too many waxy crayons from her shoes and eggs from her hair at the end of every shift. But today? Today was even worse, since it was a greeting-card generated holiday of parental appreciation. It was like any other Sunday, but ten times worst, and ten times more depressing.

Rey wondered if she would have been one of these kids, had she known her parents better. She felt a pang of incredible sadness as she wove through the crowded restaurant to get to table nine. She would have given anything just to be that little kid who was rubbing strawberry jam on her face while her dad laughed hysterically, or that surly teen across the room who was more engaged in her phone than conversation. Anything to give for a moment of normalcy, of family, of belonging.

"Food's here, watch out, kiddos!" the father saw Rey's approach and helpfully pushed his two sons' coloring books out of the way.

Rey plastered her customer service smile on. "Alright, we have two banana pancake stacks and—" she grimaced as her pager buzzed again and she quickly looked over her shoulder to see Kelly jerking her head toward table seven, shit, the hot chocolates were ready! "—and an omelet skillet for dad and here's mom's gluten-free breakfast hash with soy chorizo and a side of fruit."

The kids eagerly dug into their pancakes but their mother had a wrinkled nose.

"I'm sorry," she chirped cheerily in that customer service voice that was actually nagging and grating. "I ordered the fruit without strawberries. I'm a little _allergic?_ " Her voice rose at the end like it was a question.

Rey tried to not make eye contact with the woman's second empty mimosa glass that had a muddle chunk of strawberry at the bottom. "I'm so sorry. Let me get a fresh bowl for you without strawberries. I'll get these other dishes out of the way, pardon me." She hurriedly stacked a couple more plates and glasses on her tray and spun on her heel to get that damned fruit and the stupid hot chocolates when an unruly toddler came darting from out of nowhere and ran right into Kelly, who was coming to deliver the drinks to table seven plus a dozen more tables by the number of mugs balanced precariously upon her tray.

Rey couldn't even scream out a warning before Kelly's leg crumpled under her and a gallon of scalding hot caffeine was about to come raining down on her and the kid. Before Rey even knew what was happening, her own tray found its way at her feet and her hands stretched out as if she was able to cover Kelly from across the room.

Then, there was silence. The entire restaurant fell instantly in a hush. Not even a fork scraped or a kid whimpered.

Rey opened her eyes and saw Kelly reflexively leaning over to shield the toddler, but the barista's eyes were fixated on her tray, which was floating above her head. A tidal wave of coffee and lattes and almond milk hot chocolates were suspended in time.

"She's one of them," a voice finally whispered.

"Mommy, what's she doing?"

"I didn't know they still existed!"

There was a snap of someone's camera phone flashing, which startled Rey from her reverie. Kelly grabbed the toddler and pulled her away just as the tray and a dozen glasses and mugs came smashing to the ground. The patrons at the nearest table screamed and cried out, trying to avoid the splash zone.

Rey was frozen in spot, looking across the restaurant processing it all in slow-motion. A mixture of expressions stared at her, from shock, to surprise, to horror. There were only a couple of people, seated together at a small table against the wall, who watched almost amused, as if they were expecting this.

"R-rey?" Kelly whispered. Her chin trembled and her face was white.

Rey's eyes stung with tears. She had tried so hard to hide this for so long, tried to fit in, and now Kelly looked at her like she was a freak, just like everyone else who was gaping at her.

"I'm sorry," Rey choked out, barely audible. Her vision blurred from tears and drew her hands to her face to try to conceal it as she ran out of the restaurant.

She stumbled into the bright sunlight and immediately bumped into a nicely-dressed man who screamed, with colorful language, for her to watch out. Not able to stifle herself anymore, she broke the floodgates and sobbed while she fought through the stream of people.

"Rey."

She thought she heard someone calling her name but ignored it. Her cover was blown, her secret revealed, and she could never turn around and go back. She quickened her pace.

"Rey!"

Her keys. Her keys and her purse were in her locker back at work. _Shit!_

" _Rey!_ " The voice was more insistent. It came from so close behind her. Someone must have followed her to try to get a better photo of her to plaster over social media and then she'd _really_ be done for.

Still, she hurried, almost breaking into a run. Forget it. She could find a way back home later. But her phone and her wallet..?

"Rey, stop, please!" The voice exploded and resonated in her head, bouncing off the insides of her skull. It was so disruptive and unnerving, she was instantly struck with vertigo and toppled into a row of coin-operated newspaper racks. Gasping as the world spun, she clung to the graffitied surface of the _LA Weekly_ rack and hoped she wouldn't vomit.

"Rey," the voice said again, this time gentler.

Rey eased herself up, still shaking and leaning on the rack for support. She saw the couple from the restaurant, standing about twenty feet away in the middle of the sidewalk. Pedestrians streamed organically around them, completely oblivious of the two people committing a cardinal sidewalk sin. It's like they weren't even there.

The male, scruffy and a tad taller than the woman, lifted his arm and hanging from it was Rey's purse. He walked slowly toward her, purse extended, as a peace offering.

"How did you get this?" she whispered, grabbing her bag and holding it protectively to her chest. "How do you know my name?" He only gave her a wry smile.

The woman smirked a bit, and the way her eyes wrinkled looked so similar to the man. "Well, it helps that you're advertising it," she commented, crooking an eyebrow and casting a side-eye at the white nametag over Rey's breast that read in black letters, unsurprisingly: REY.

"How did you do that?" Rey demanded. "How did you get inside my head?"

The man shrugged and clasped his hands together. "It's not so strange, once you know how to control it."

"Control what? What are you talking about?"

The woman watched Rey, almost as if she were studying a peculiar little creature. Her lips didn't move, but Rey her heard voice loud and clear.

" _Deep down, you know what it is. It's in you, too_."

Rey squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her purse to her face. "No, no, no, this is crazy. This is not happening. This is a dream, I'm going to wake up and everything's going to be okay."

"Don't kid yourself, Rey," the man said. "We're here to help. Since you don't plan on going back to work, can you join us and we can explain more about this?"

Rey lowered her purse and ping-ponged her eyes back and forth between the two. It dawned on her. "You're twins, aren't you?"

The woman nodded. "My name is Leia," she said. "This is my brother, Luke."

"Leia," Rey repeated, softly. "Luke. Your names are familiar. Why is that?" Her memories tried to find where those names had resided, but she was so wound up, it was hard to think straight.

Luke smiled a tight and restrained smile. "We'll talk about that, too. Would you like to come with us?" He nodded toward a black SUV that had quietly rolled up in the NO PARKING zone behind them. A large behemoth of a man, with long, dark hair and an equally grizzly beard was behind the driver's seat.

Rey steely stared at them again, trying to assess their motives and reaching out to try to feel their emotions, but they were guarded – extremely guarded. But nothing negative came off of them, yet. In fact, she could sense something almost loving and familial about them.

"I have a Taser in here," Rey warned, holding her bag up threateningly. "And I know how to use it."

Leia chuckled. "I don't think there's any concern about that. But if my brother here deserves it, by all means, have at it."

Luke smacked his sister on the arm. "We're holding up traffic. Shall we?"

Leia took Rey's hand, clasping it tenderly. Rey immediately soaked up a warmth from her touch.

" _We're not going to hurt you_ ," Leia whispered in Rey's head. " _But we can't talk about this in public. You know how_ they _feel about_ us."

"Okay," Rey agreed, letting herself be led to the car. What more did she have to lose?


	5. Chapter 4 - The Safe House

_Six months earlier_

The door of the SUV swung shut and sealed them away from the outside world. The air conditioner was on full blast and the radio, set to a reasonable volume, was playing an upbeat pop song.

"Ah, Chuy, our closet Taylor Swift fan," Luke teased from the front passenger seat.

The gruff man only scowled then grunted.

"This is Jesús," Leia told Rey. "But he prefers to be called Chuy. It's a diminutive. A cute nickname, if you will."

Chuy emitted a quiet utterance and zippered into traffic, tapping his thick hands on the steering wheel to the beat of the music. He was so large, the wheel looked like a toy and the top of his head just brushed the ceiling of the car. He wore a leather jacket studded with spikes and patches, which seemed counterproductive to the heat outdoors. Other than the bopping to "Shake It Off," there was nothing else cute or tiny about him.

"Chuy doesn't talk a lot," Leia continued. "Once you get to know him, he can be quite nice."

Chuy's glance darted at the review mirror to assess Rey. His eyes were dark brown, outlined with wrinkles much like a walnut shell, with a faded blue mark under his left eye, which looked suspiciously like a prison tattoo. He made a noise of neutral approval.

"He's also the hairiest person I've ever met, which is why every room is going to be an ice box when you're with him," Luke complained, tucking his arms around himself.

"Oh," Rey said, saying the only thing that came to mind. "I see." She laced her fingers together and rested her hands on her lap, trying to remain calm.

No one spoke for a few minutes, unless one could consider the undulations that Chuy made that resembled some sort of sing-a-long.

"So, where you from, Rey?" Luke asked, trying to break the awkward silence.

"Um, Arizona. Phoenix," she responded.

"My favorite mythological creature," Leia mused. "What a beautiful concept, isn't it? A new life, arising from death, the ashes of the one before. To rise from the flames, stronger, wiser, and -"

"—also the name of a city that's a monument to man's arrogance," Luke interrupted. Chuy made a noise that Rey figured was a laugh.

Leia rolled her eyes. "What brought you here? To California, that is."

"I, um, didn't have much of a choice. My aunt took me in after my parents died in a car accident when I was four. She and I lived in Vacaville until she died, too." Rey fixated her gaze on a man and woman who were in a heated argument on the street corner, to distract her heartache. She didn't want to talk about it anymore, but she felt compelled. "Cancer," she finished, quietly. "She died of cancer. Then, I was in and out of foster homes down the coast until I ended up here, on my own."

There was an awkward silence. "I'm sorry," Leia finally said. "I'm sure your parents would be very proud of you."

Rey's face darkened and she whipped her head around angrily to face Leia. "Please don't talk about my parents. You don't know them." She was furious at herself for letting the tears well up.

Leia nodded. "I'm sorry. I meant no offense. It's just.. we can empathize." Her face softened. "It's a terrible thing, to grow up without parents. I'm sorry for your loss."

"Me too," Rey whispered. "And for yours." She turned to face out the window again. Her heart burned with the fresh reminder that she had no family and was alone in the world, especially after just losing all of her friends at work.

"There's no going back, Rey," Luke said, craning around in his seat to look at her. "They saw you. Even if you could make them forget, you couldn't go back, now that you know."

"I've known for a while," she retorted.

"I believe you. But you can't control it. You haven't fine-tuned it. That's where we can help."

Rey realized they were driving away from the city and were getting on the I-110 freeway north. "Where are we going?"

Chuy emitted a grunt of annoyance and Luke patted his arm. "Somewhere safe," Luke promised. "Chuy knows the best route to the place where we'll be secure, where no one can find us."

Rey was confused. "Who would want to find us?"

Luke smiled, grimly. "Well, that's what we're going to talk about." He fiddled with one of the fans on the dash. Are you getting enough air back there?" He was clearly done with talking about the subject for now.

Rey rubbed her goosepimpled arms, although she wasn't sure if it was from the cold air or the strangeness of the situation rubbing her nerves the wrong way. "Plenty, thanks."

A Britney Spears song began to play and Chuy turned up the volume, emitting a hum-sing that was an entire key off from Britney.

Rey couldn't help but marvel at her predicament. Just an hour ago, she was stumbling through a crappy Sunday brunch shift and now, she was in a fancy SUV, barreling north toward an unknown destination, with twin mind readers and a burly man that looked more like a relation to Sasquatch with an affinity for bubblegum pop.

And somehow, she was okay with it. Somehow, this felt right.

##

Thirty minutes later, after ensuring there was no one on their trail, Chuy pulled into a garage of a modest tract home in a nice neighborhood north of Old Pasadena. Every house was slightly different than the other, with a mirrored floorplan or a slightly different shade of rustic adobe or desert sage painting the exterior stucco walls. Every yard was perfectly manicured, with a mixture of native and non-native plants and grasses, the latter of which likely consumed too much water in this arid land. Half the neighborhood's houses, including the one they just arrived at, had solar panels on the roof – a near-necessity if one could afford it in California.

"Welcome to one of our safe houses," Leia said as they all exited the SUV.

"A safe house?" Rey echoed. "Gee, think you should be telling me that? What if I don't want to join this cause?"

Leia and Luke exchange knowing glances. "I don't think we have anything to worry about," Leia said. "You're trustworthy."

Rey followed the group into the home where a short, grandmotherly old woman was bustling around in the kitchen. The smell of something sweet and tantalizing filled the air and Rey's stomach grumbled. She realized she hadn't even had the time to scarf down a shift meal and now she was very, very hungry.

"Ah, just in time!" the woman exclaimed, eagerly scraping a spatula across a baking sheet to free some cookies. "A batch of my top secret almond cookie raspberry jam thumbprint cookies!"

"You can find them in the refrigerator at the grocery store," Luke loudly stage whispered to Rey. "Next to all of the other pre-packaged cookie dough."

The woman pretended to not hear Luke and arranged the treats on a big plate. She smiled broadly, the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes appearing enormous due to the thickness of her glasses and offered a cookie first to Chuy.

"I had you fooled the first time, Mr. Skywalker," she cackled. "You thought they were homemade."

Rey's heart quickened as the obvious began to dawn. "Skywalker," she repeated. "That's where I know the name!" She pointed at Luke, then at Leia, accusingly. "You're the heirs to Skywalker Enterprises!"

"You look silly with your mouth agape," the old woman admonished. "Put a cookie in it, at least." She deposited a cookie in Rey's other hand.

Rey grumpily chomped at the cookie, keeping a suspicious distance between her and the Skywalker twins.

Luke shrugged, resigned. " _Disenfranchised_ heirs. But that's something we can talk about later." He gestured toward the old woman. "This is Maz. She's not only our resident baker, but she's also one of the most brilliant minds behind our operations. Maz, this is—"

"I know who she is, Mr. Skywalker," Maz interrupted, putting the plate of cookies on the kitchen island. Chuy hurriedly helped himself to a couple more treats.

Rey recoiled slightly as the tiny woman approached her, the old woman's eyes magnified and huge behind thick lenses. Maz climbed up on a barstool to get closer.

"Hmm, this is Rey," Maz said after an uncomfortably long linger at Rey, up and down. "Yes, yes, this is Rey."

"How do you know my name?" Rey asked.

"Maz is older than you'd think," Luke said. "She knows a lot. Probably knows more about you than yourself."

Chuy chirped in agreement, reaching for more cookies. Maz swatted at his hand.

"Wait until everyone gets one!" she scolded him. Chuy snarled in annoyance but waited until Luke and Leia each grabbed a cookie.

"Maz is the mind behind the operation," Rey said. "Tell me about that."

Maz grinned. "Why, when I can show you?" She hopped off the bar stool and indicated for Rey to follow. "Come now, down this rickety and not-at-all creepy basement staircase, will you?" Maz moved with a surprising spryness and Rey hurried to catch up.

Luke couldn't help but roll his eyes. "She loves shoving off her toys."

The staircase was indeed rickety and rather creepy, and as they descended into the basement, the air grew a little colder and there was a humming that grew louder and angrier. Rey hugged herself tightly as she and Maz reached the bottom where there was a big, thick plastic curtain that reminded Rey of the walk-in fridge at her job. _Former job_ , she reminded herself.

"Welcome to my hideaway!" Maz grinned, holding the curtain open for Rey to walk through.

The basement was larger than Rey expected; it was about the size of her studio apartment. But with all of the crap crammed inside, the room looked much smaller and more claustrophobic. A huge, portable air conditioning unit shuddered as its temperature display dropped down another degree – to 60 – and a thick foil exhaust vent snaked up the wall to the window, which was completely taped up save for the hole through which the hot hair filtered out. The side opposite of the window was completely filled by a hodge podge array of various flat-panel monitors, a television (muted, and playing one of the 24/7 news channels), a few posters, and a handful of newspaper and magazine clippings.

What impressed her more were the computers and the cacophony they generated. It felt like being inside a bee's hive; a loud, churning, and furious hum rattled her ears and made it hard to think. Two open-frame racks in the center of the room were packed with server blades, all lit up with an array of lights, tethered together with expertly-organized, mesh-wrapped power and Ethernet cables.

It took Rey a few moments to notice the shiny, bald head of a man sitting at a computer workstation. She almost missed him in the mess.

"He's one of my best boys," Maz practically yelled over the din. "That's why I call him BB. I also forgot what his real name is but can't be bothered to learn a new one now!" Maz shuffled over to the man and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Eek!" he shrieked, jumping out of the chair. The puffy headphones around his neck caught him as the cable ran short, and he flopped unceremoniously to the ground.

"BB, this is Rey!" Maz said. "Rey's a new recruit – maybe!"

BB disentangled himself from the headphones and stood up. He barely stood taller than Maz, which wasn't saying much, and was about as wide as he was standing. To say he was rotund like a beach ball was most accurate, and if it weren't for the huge sunburst of a red beard, Rey would have pinned his age at no more than 12 years old – the curse of a baby face.

"Rey, nice to meet you!" BB yelled, extending a hand out to which Rey accepted and BB pumped in an enthusiastic shake. "So glad to meet you, yes!" He didn't stop shaking her hand until Maz thwapped him on the shoulder.

"BB doesn't get out much," Maz explained. "He spends most of his time down here."

BB nodded. "I like computers more than most people! 'Cept Maz, here, of course. And the twins. And the others."

"Others?" Rey was confused. Who else could there be, well, besides the mute Chuy?

"Come join us upstairs, BB," Maz said. "I made your favorite."

"Raspberry thumbprints!" BB squealed. With a quickness Rey had never seen for a man of his size, she was impressed with how quickly BB raced out of the room and up the stairs.

"That little slice of heaven you saw," Maz began, once Rey and she were back in the kitchen and sitting at the bar with a pot of tea Leia brewed, "is one of the ways we fund our organization."

"Cryptocurrency!" BB interjected, not realizing or not caring about the shower of crumbs that puffed from his mouth while he happily ate some cookies. "That's our mining operation!"

"Mining?"

"You heard of coin, stuff like that?" BB asked. Rey nodded. "Well, the more computers you have, the more chance you have working out the algorithm to find a coin! It's very energy intensive, though, so you have to keep everything cold so it doesn't melt the servers." He bobbed his head side-to-side, as if he were listening to a song or shaking the water out of his ears, and happily grabbed a couple more cookies.

Rey wondered what a computer did to find a coin, but she had many more pressing questions in her head. Her lack of poker face must have revealed her confusion.

"You've got a lot going through your head right now," Leia said matter-of-factly. "There's a lot to go over and no good way to start. Why don't you take a rest, get refreshed, and we'll start discussing things over dinner tonight?"

A rest. That actually sounded very enticing. Rey's energy had sapped the moment she had exerted herself in the restaurant, but the pure adrenaline of what followed kept her on edge and awake. Now, with another cookie in her belly and a mug of tea in her hands, she felt at ease enough to let her guard down a little bit to acknowledge these people weren't about to rob her or leave her for dead.

"That'd be nice. Do you have a couch I can crash on?"

"Did you happen to see the size of this McMansion when you walked in? There's plenty of bedrooms. Come, I'll show you and you can get a little shut-eye." Leia got up and walked Rey upstairs to one of the spare rooms.

"Kick off your shoes, get some sleep, and I'll wake you up for dinner," Leia said with a smile. She turned off the lights behind her and gently closed the door.

Rey surveyed the room. It was spartan, with a queen-sized bed topped with black comforter, an empty nightstand, and a small white desk. A little bit of sunlight peeked through the white blinds and cast shadowy lines on the polished hardwood. There was a framed artistic print hanging above the bed, all black-and-white with not a splash of color. She peeked in the closet – empty – and guiltily cased the room for any obvious cameras or microphones. When she didn't find anything suspect, she stepped out of her shoes and stripped down to her underwear, dumping her clothes and purse on the desk chair.

She crawled under the comforter and immediately was encased in a feathery paradise. She couldn't help but release a content sigh. This was much nicer than the rock-hard futon she called a bed back at home.

 _Home_. Would it be safe to go back? What about her plants? They were half-dead, but they were still hers. She had some clothes, nothing nice to speak of, but hers all the same, plus the few other meager possessions she had locked in her tiny room at the apartment she shared with Kelly and two other girls.

Rey's heart ached. She and Kelly weren't best friends, but Kelly was still a good friend and Rey wondered if she'd see her ever again. She replayed Kelly's reaction over and over in her mind, each time the blonde's face contorting into more disgust and more horror. Surely, she thought Rey of a monster by now. There'd be nothing kind waiting for Rey back home.

Rolling over to face the wall, Rey hugged a pillow close to her chest and let her tears lull her to sleep.


	6. Chapter 5 - The Break-In

_Present day_

Rey jerked the steering wheel and roughly came to a stop in the parking lot outside of her apartment building, the gravel crunching and kicking up from under her tires. She killed the engine and allowed herself a moment to seethe in the privacy of her car.

"Who do they think they are?" she growled under her breath. She snatched her bag, flung her car door open, and stormed all the way up to her third-story apartment, not caring if she pissed off the neighbors by stomping loudly on the metal stairs.

This apartment was decidedly better than her last one, that one she had shared with Kelly and the other girls, but it was still modest and low-budget. Even though Rey made plenty of money now, she still lived frugally, deep down afraid that she'd lose everything again. It was in one of those areas in the city that wasn't too great, but wasn't the worst, where neighbors kept a cautious and polite distance from each other. Rey had lived there for four months and had only spoken to the old man in 4-C twice. She spoke to no one else.

She chucked her purse across the living room as she crossed it heading to her bedroom, missing the couch completely and the bag exploded its contents all over the rug. She kicked one stupid high heel off and then the other, and soon the ugly, frilly, professional blouse was thrown down, too. She shimmied out of the pencil skirt and uncoiled the stifling pantyhose, dropping the offending clothing at the foot of her bed. She snatched a pair of loose-fitting brown yoga pants and a comfy t-shirt, tugged a pair of worn ballet flats on her feet, readjusted her hair into a couple of sloppy buns, and assessed herself in the mirror. _Yes, much better_. She nodded approvingly at her reflection.

Her body still prickled with aggravation. She unconsciously clenched and unclenched her fists and paced through her small apartment with no apparent goal in mind. She passed her fish tank three times before remembering to sprinkle some flakes in for the goldfish.

"Hello, fishies," she murmured against the glass. The food stunk as she crumbled it into smaller pieces between her finger tips, but it smelled delicious to the fishes who eagerly bobbed toward the surface to suck up a few nibbles.

Rey stopped to wash her hands in the kitchen sink. She scrubbed her skin, picked her nails, losing herself to her thoughts as she replayed that day's events. She gazed through the half-open blinds of the window over the sink, barely paying attention to the lights of the cars that drove by on the busy street.

The ding of the elevator. The sound of her heels tapping against the tile. Those faceless, armored guards. The high-rise office that more resembled a lair. Ben, Ben. He smelled so good. The rain drops against the window, the fog that wrapped the city in a lover's embrace. His voice and its deep timbre. The way he felt, the way he smelled. Everything was crystal clear, all the thoughts were true to her, until she stood at that window and he came up from behind. Something turned murky. There was darkness in her head, like a void that had been carved into her memories.

 _He's here_.

"Ah!" she cried, pulling her hands out of the sink. Her skin was red and the water steamed hot and scalding from the faucet. She hurriedly slammed the lever down to shut off the water and dropped to her knees to hide.

 _What are you doing?_ she told herself. _Who are you hiding from?!_ But there was fear, a chest-tightening, heart-racing, fight-or-flight fear that sneaked up on her that she couldn't stifle. She crouched perfectly still for a good minute, listening to the muted sounds of traffic, straining to hear anything else in the gentle din.

 _Go. Go, move, get moving!_ She willed herself to scramble back to the living room, avoiding the other windows. She spotted her phone on the floor, but to get to it, she'd be in clear sight of a window that she hadn't closed.

On the opposite wall, above the fireplace, was a decorative katana from the previous tenant who'd left it behind. Rey loved it for how tacky and ridiculous it was and had elected to keep it when she moved in, and now she was glad she had something sharp in her possession.

She pressed against the wall, moving slowly and carefully toward the fireplace. She grabbed the katana from the wall and immediately dropped back to the ground.

 _I feel him_.

She didn't know where he was, but she sensed his presence. She was certain she had locked her front door. She did; she heard the deadbolt jiggle before she saw it.

Adrenaline coursed through her and she sprang up, racing toward the sliding glass doors. She flung the sword's sheath over her shoulder and without a moment's hesitation, scrambled over the edge of the balcony, grasping the twisted wrought-iron rods. She heard the dead bolt give way and the haunting sound of the door scratching open. She swung herself down below on the second-floor unit's balcony before the intruder could see her.

There was an audible _click_ as her front door gently closed. One heavy footstep creaked, then another. Rey realized she could hear this because she left the damned sliding door open. The footsteps quickened and she lunged over the edge to drop down on the grass below. She darted toward a large hedge and ducked behind it just in time.

Biting her fist to keep from panting out loud, Rey peered vainly through the thick leaves, trying to glimpse a view of whoever it was on her balcony. All she could make out was a figure, tall and shadowy. Its head cocked left to right, then suddenly locked in her direction. Then, it didn't move. Rey's heart leapt to her throat and the figure vaulted over the balcony, all the way to the ground.

Rey had never moved so fast in her life. She ran the fastest she ever had run, the sheath of the katana slapping against her back. She was too afraid to look over her shoulder and focused on putting one foot in front of the other. Her ballet flats smacked on the concrete sidewalk, and she was grateful she had thought to put the flimsy shoes on.

One of her buns unraveled and a thick chunk of hair flew in her face; she batted at it madly to clear her vision. She exited her sprawling apartment complex and onto the main road. She did not hasten her pace and pumped her legs and arms. Her heart smashed liked a trapped hummingbird against her rib cage and her lungs wanted to explode, but she could not stop. She knew whoever it was following her was close behind. She sensed it. She felt it and it was a force malicious.

She came to a major intersection and the light turned red, but she powered through the street, dodging any cars that honked at her. _Don't stop, don't stop!_ Just as she was about to alight on the curb across the street, a car's horn blared and Rey heard the sound of brakes squealing just before she hit the asphalt.

###

"Ma'am, can you hear me? Ma'am, don't move, just stay awake. No, no, don't close your eyes." A meddlesome light broke into her line of sight and she winced.

"That's good, that's good, stay still. Can you tell me your name?"

Rey squinted as the light bounced around. She could make out a shadowy outline of a large men and she choked on her own scream, trying to scramble away.

"Whoa, whoa, careful, don't move!" Two strong hands, but tender to the touch, gripped her sides. She groaned in pain.

A Los Angeles Police Department officer looked down at her, his thick eyebrows knitted in concern and his dark brown eyes watched her carefully. "Careful now. I'm Officer Dameron. You stepped in front of my patrol car. I tried to stop but I couldn't make it in time." The man's face momentarily twisted in agonized guilt. "Please, keep still. Paramedics are on their way." The officer had removed his jacket and used it to make a pillow under Rey's head, but she was still shaking.

"Hey, get the blanket out of my patrol car!" Officer Dameron yelled at his partner. In a moment, a silvery thermal blanket was fanned over Rey.

"What were you doing running in the middle of the street?" Officer Dameron asked, massaging her hands to keep them warm. He hesitated before he continued. "…and with a ninja sword?"

"I.." Rey grimaced. Her shoulder screamed and she bit her lip so hard, she nicked through the skin. She wasn't about to tell the officer that she was pretty sure the heir to Skywalker Enterprises was stalking her down Western Avenue. "Some hobo broke into my apartment, so I got scared and ran."

"With a ninja sword?"

Rey grunted as another shock of pain radiated down her arm. "It's the only thing I have. You ever experience being a mid-20s single woman in this town? You need something – _ahh –"_ Fuck, that was really hurting now "—to protect yourself."

"What's your address? I'll send someone over to check it out."

Through clenched teeth, Rey hissed out her address and the officer spoke into his radio for a 10-14 at Rey's apartment, advising to use precaution as it was uncertain if the perp had a weapon.

An ambulance – thankfully, without its sirens on, because Rey was getting already embarrassed at the small looky-loo crowd that was gathering – screeched up behind the patrol car. A couple of handsome, well-built paramedics hopped out. Rey wanted to melt into the cement and die; she must have looked such a sight, banged and bruised up and shuddering under her stupid thermal blanket, with her growing entourage of good-looking men clustering around.

"Do you think you can walk?" Officer Dameron asked. Rey nodded, afraid something stupid would come spilling out of her mouth. With Dameron's help, she got to her feet and he guided her to the back of the ambulance.

"I really don't want to go to the hospital," Rey complained, even though her shoulder was probably swollen like a grapefruit at this point.

"Well, you did just get hit by a car," the red-headed paramedic said, flashing a pen light in her eyes.

"It wasn't very fast," Rey argued. "Besides, I didn't even lose consciousness. I think."

The other paramedic cuffed her arm to check her blood pressure then violated her ear to gauge her temperature. "97.8. You feeling a little chilly?"

"Yes," she mumbled.

Red-head tugged at the sleeve of her shirt to look at her arm and she yelped out in pain.

"We really should take you in to get this looked at," he advised. "It's bruised pretty bad. See?" He pressed a finger into her flesh and she almost saw stars.

"I really don't want to go to the hospital," she whined, her face flushing. "I don't even know if my insurance covers ambulance rides…" Her voice trailed off. Even though she figured her insurance _probably_ covered a $6,000 ride in a red-and-white, she wasn't really ready to gamble that. Besides, the last place she wanted to be was flopped on a gurney and tended to two of LA's finest emergency responders while going braless under her ratty tee and wearing her coffee-stained yoga pants.

"We won't make you do anything you don't want to, but you really need to get checked out, especially if you hit your head," the other paramedic warned. "Is there someone you can call?

"My head is fine," she insisted. "There is someone but I left my cell phone at home."

"You can use mine," Officer Dameron piped up. Rey hadn't noticed him standing outside the ambulance door, his hat curled in his hands. He obviously still felt guilty about hitting her with his car. "I can take you to the hospital, too, if you'd like?"

"Yes, that," Rey exclaimed. "That is my option. Thank you." She batted away any offered help by the paramedics and climbed out of the ambulance, wrapped tightly in her tinfoil blanket like a burrito.

"I've got my partner en route to your place right now," Officer Dameron said as he opened the passenger side door of his patrol car. "He'll check it out."

"Thanks." Rey climbed in and he closed the door behind her, careful to avoid smacking her pained shoulder.

The crowd was thankfully dispersing, losing their interest as soon as they saw Rey getting escorted by the officer.

"Do you know which hospital your, uh, insurance will cover?" he asked, pulling away from the scene.

"Whatever's closer, doesn't matter," Rey answered shortly. Now her arm was _really_ hurting.

Officer Dameron radioed to dispatch, babbling a string of ten codes and short speech that Rey didn't fully understand.

"Sorry for running in front of your car," she sighed. "I hope I didn't get you in trouble."

"I'll be fine," he shrugged. "It wouldn't be the first time someone's run in front of a cop car. I'm just lucky you're not too badly injured. Hopefully."

They rode quietly for a few minutes, their silence only broken by the random spattering of the radio. Cars noticing a cop behind them suddenly became the best-behaved drivers in the world, which annoyed Dameron, since they were going exactly below the speed limit and keeping him from moving at a reasonable speed.

"Oh, hey, did you need to call anyone?" he suddenly remembered. "Parents? Friend? Boyfriend?" The last word was tossed in casually, but it had a certain hopeful weight in the tone.

"Err, my, um, aunt, probably," Rey said. "She lives in town. Closest relative I've got here."

"Be my guest," he said, swiping his phone screen on and handing the device to Rey.

Rey gratefully accepted the phone, admiring the background photo where a scruffy and smiling Officer Dameron was standing in front of a Cessna 152. "Is that your plane?"

Dameron grinned like a goofy father, happy to show off his kid. "That's my baby! Don't take her out nearly as much as I'd like to, with my job and all. But getting my private pilot's license was almost as good as becoming a cop. Maybe better."

Rey smiled appreciatively, despite feeling a little ball of sadness bubble inside. One of her few memories she had with her parents were the times they'd go to the local air field and watch the small planes take off. It was always her dream to learn how to fly, but after her parents and aunt died, a lot of her dreams died with them.

Sighing, she punched in one of Leia's numbers that she had the foresight to memorize. After a few rings, Leia's sleepy voice answered.

"Hey, Auntie, it's me," Rey said, suddenly nervous. She felt like a naughty kid, calling for help after getting herself into trouble. She didn't know why she was so upset to call; maybe the adrenaline was wearing off.

"Rey? Rey, what's wrong? What number are you calling me from?" Leia sounded very much awake now.

"I-I'm okay, it's okay," Rey said. "I'm calling from a very nice police officer's phone. He's taking me to the hospital—"

"The hospital?! Oh, my god, what's wrong?" There was a shuffling of covers as Leia jumped out of bed. "I'm on my way, where are you going?"

"Le—Auntie, I'm okay. Bruised my shoulder bad but I'm going in just to get checked out."

"Checked out for what?!"

"Umm, I got hit by a car. By a cop car. Just a little bit."

There was an exasperated sigh that only a mother could emit. "Rey, which hospital? I'll meet you there."

"Good Samaritan."

"I'm on my way."

###

An hour-and-a-half later, Rey found herself on a hospital bed behind a curtain in the urgent care center of the Los Angeles Good Samaritan Hospital. Officer Dameron hadn't left her side, except for when she had to strip down to the flimsy hospital gown and when he went to get some hot chocolates from the vending machine for the two of them.

"You know, you don't have to stay here with me," Rey told him. "I'm sure my aunt will be here any minute."

He shook his head, firmly. "It's my fault that you're in this mess. The least I can do is keep you company."

Rey tucked the blanket tighter around her feet. She had no socks and the hospital wasn't exactly a warm place. "I'm not going to press charges or file a complaint or anything," she reassured him. "It was an accident."

Officer Dameron's stance relaxed, just a tad. "Well, Miss Rey –"

"Just.. Rey, Officer Dameron."

"Then Poe, Just Rey." Poe smiled warmly.

The curtain abruptly ripped open to reveal Leia and Chuy, the latter of whom eyed Poe warily and emitted a low, brief growl.

"Rey, are you alright?" Leia exclaimed, hurrying to Rey and looking her over. She tutted in concern when she noticed the blue sling that held Rey's right arm close to her body.

"I'm fine, I'm just waiting for the results of the X-rays. I should be able to go soon if everything is fine," Rey mumbled, embarrassed over Leia's dramatic response.

"Are you the officer who hit my girl?" Leia said accusingly, her attention shifting to Poe on the other side of the bed.

"It was an accident," Rey hurriedly interrupted. "It was my fault. I ran a red. Don't blame him."

"What were you doing running in the middle of a busy street at this ungodly hour?" Leia looked like she wanted to strangle her, notwithstanding the girl's injury which probably hurt just as much as a good old-fashioned throttling.

"There was a prowler in her apartment," Poe said. "We had it checked out. There's definitely signs of a break in."

The entire demeanor of Leia shifted. "You're coming home with me," she told Rey. It wasn't an offer; it was a command.

A doctor peeked around the curtain. "Miss Jacks? May I?" Leia and Chuy stepped aside to permit the doctor to walk into the now-cramped space.

"Your X-rays came back fine. Nothing but a little bump on your head, no fractures or anything to be concerned about. Your shoulder is fine, too, but really bruised. I'll write you a script for 800 milligrams of ibuprofen. Once that shot we gave you wears out, you'll want to take the pills as prescribed. The swelling should subside in a few days, but ice it when it starts to act up." The doctor glanced around, her eyes unabashedly scoping out the group. "Do you have someone who can take you to the pharmacy and get you home?"

"Yes," replied Poe and Leia at once.

Rey resisted rolling her eyes. "Yes, I'm fine, thank you."

The doctor nodded. "The nurse will be around with your script and release paperwork shortly. Glad to see you turned out to be okay." She snapped the curtain shut behind her.

"Wow, icy," Poe commented. "Talk about needing to work on her bedside manner."

"Speaking of bedside, let's get you ready to go and in bed at my place," Leia said, pulling Rey's clothes out of the hospital bag. "Sooner you're dressed, sooner we can get out of here."

"Looks like my work here is done," Poe said. "Again, Rey, I'm really sorry. Would you please contact me when you're feeling better? I'll need a statement for my report." He pulled out a business card and handed it to her. "At your earliest convenience."

"Sure," she said, accepting the card without looking at it. "Thanks for your help."

"My pleasure." He put on his hat and nodded at Chuy and Leia. "Sir, ma'am." And with that, he was gone.

"Where's that damn nurse?" Leia muttered impatiently.

Chuy warbled a reassuring sound and patted Leia on the back.

Rey fiddled idly with the card, flipping it between the fingers of her left hand. "I'm sorry," she said, quietly.

Leia glared at her, eyes aflame.

"I shouldn't have left like that tonight," Rey said in a barely-audible whisper. "The whole ordeal with Ben left me feeling... unsettled. And I think he—or someone – followed me home. It wasn't a random burgle. Leia, I'm scared."

Leia sat down at the edge of the bed and took Rey's hand. "Rey, you must stop pushing us away. You've been with us for months, now. Please, trust us. I don't want you to get hurt. We wouldn't have sent you in if we didn't think you were ready." She tucked a strand of hair behind Rey's ear. "Believe me that I want the best for you. They know where you live now. These are very dangerous people we're dealing with. I could never forgive myself if something happened to you."

"Then tell me more. Don't leave me in the dark. I need to know everything. What I've gotten myself into. I know there are things that you aren't telling me."

Leia sighed, dejected. "Rey, not yet. Not now. Not when Ben is supposed to make contact with you tomorrow. That would make you vulnerable. Especially since we don't know what he gleaned from you."

"So you ask me to trust you but you don't trust me." Rey huffed and turned away from Leia, dropping Poe's business card on the floor. She climbed out of the bed, stomping her feet for good measure, and retrieved the card.

Leia pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes briefly before getting up and pacing around the little room. "No, Rey, that's—"

"Leia."

"—Rey, come on, of course we trust you, but—"

"Leia!"

"—we can't just share everything with—"

"Leia, look!"

Leia stopped in her tracks and turned around to face toward Rey.

In the girl's outstretched hand, she held out Poe's business card. The back of the card faced Leia, and in sloppy handwriting was "PERSONAL: 213 555 1010." But below it, something else. Something of only few would understand.

Scratched under the phone number was a starburst with a tall point, surrounded by two wings. It was a symbol. A calling card.

The Hoth rebellion secret insignia.

Leia's throat tightened. "He knows."


	7. Chapter 6 - The Recruitment

_Six months earlier_

The scent of something delicious tugged Rey from a troubled sleep. Her nose opened first, then her eyes. For a moment, she was caught off-guard, waking up in a strange bed, under sheets that were unusually silky smooth against her bare legs. These wouldn't be sheets she could afford to buy. Then, she remembered she was at some safe house, occupied by a most eclectic motley crew who were apparently in cahoots to take down one of the biggest corporations on the planet.

Right. Because they were all going to take down Skywalker Enterprises. Or something like that.

Rey tore the blanket away and pulled on her trousers and tank top, eschewing shoes, button-up, and the stupid apron that still smelled faintly of fried food from work. She let her hair hang, untethered and wild, not caring to have to look presentable. She thumped down the stairs, the smells and chatter growing stronger.

"Ah, there she is," Leia said when Rey appeared in the kitchen. "Feeling better?"

"A bit, yeah," Rey said. The wound of being outed in public and losing her few friends would be fresh for some time, but she was quite intrigued with the new proposition that was awaiting.

"Maz has whipped us up a feast," Luke declared. "Grab a plate and help yourself."

Rey snagged a ceramic plate and hovered around the kitchen bar where everyone was eagerly serving themselves from the plethora of dishes that Maz created. There was a spicy-looking curry, a heaping bowl of quinoa studded in bits of chopped vegetables and nuts, a plate of spinach-and-feta stuffed puff pastries, baba ghanoush with a fan of crispy pita triangles, and a few other dishes that Rey didn't recognize, but piled them on her plate all the same.

"Thank you for dinner," Rey said as she took a seat at the dinner table. "This looks delicious."

"Unlike her cookies, this is all homemade," Luke teased before popping an oily dolma in his mouth.

The next few minutes, the six of them sat quietly eating their meals, with only a few punctuations of joyous and random giggling from BB. Chuy ate with purposeful and surprising manners, even going so far as laying a napkin over his lap and tucking one in his shirt.

Rey absentmindedly smooshed some quinoa with her fork. "So… when will someone tell me what's going on?"

Leia and Luke exchanged secret looks that indicated they were speaking wordlessly, in that creepy twin way. Finally, Leia spoke. "What would you like to know, Rey?"

Rey gestured with her utensil at the group gathered around the table. "Well, this, for first. Who are you people?"

"We're Hoth," Luke said. "Pretty much."

"You're telling me that one of the most notorious environmental lobbyist groups and pioneers in alternative energies is run by..?" Rey didn't want to say anything else inadvertently insulting, so she stopped.

"Oh, dear, well we can't do it alone, if that's what you're implying," Leia remarked. She thoughtfully chewed on a pita and shared a chuckle with the others sitting at the table. "But yes, it's basically the five of us." She shrugged. "More or less."

"More or less," Luke echoed.

"We can give you the Cliff Notes version, but just enough to educate you so you can make an informed decision whether or not you want to join our cause," Maz explained. "We're not about to divulge all of our secrets. That would be dangerous for us—" she pointed sternly "—and for you. We must build our trust together before we tell you more. And it would do you no good in case you get compromised."

Rey's head began to swim. "I'm not sure I follow." Tools? Compromise? Was she being recruited to be an assassin or something?

"You might need a bit of a history lesson, then," Luke said. "Care for some wine?" He nodded toward the empty glass at Rey's placemat.

"Ah, sure, okay," she answered. Just as she reached for the glass, it shot away, grazing her fingertips as it skimmed through the air. Luke effortlessly caught the glass, poured some wine in it, and handed it back to Rey. He also plunked the wine bottle next to her plate.

"Rey, would you mind pouring me some wine?" he asked.

She automatically rose and reached for his glass, but he swatted her hand away.

"No," he said, firmly. "Like I did."

"I'm not—" Rey glanced around the table; everyone was watching. "I'm not sure if I can," she said, quietly.

"Sure you can." Luke steepled his fingers under his chin and leaned his elbows on the table, appearing almost to be rather bored. "Do like what you did in the restaurant. Tap into that."

Rey frowned deeply. She readjusted herself in her seat and leaned into the table, staring intently at Luke's empty wine glass. She concentrated hard, narrowing her eyes at the glass and trying to will it toward her. Nothing.

"How did you feel going into work that day?" Luke prodded. "A day where everyone celebrates their parents, if they have them. The irritation you felt at that table you were serving and the unruly kid about to knock your barista friend down?"

The glass wiggled, just a bit.

"She could have slipped and broke her arm, most likely," Luke mused. "Yes, and probably would have been burned pretty bad. Would you have liked that? Kid's parents probably would have blamed you guys for the incident, yeah, people like that are the kind that go to that restaurant. Bunch of high maintenance, condescending people that don't care much for anyone but themselves. People like you? You're expendable to them. You're just a server."

The glass jumped, then tipped on its side.

"They don't know what it's like to suffer—"

The glass vibrated with her emotions.

"—to know profound loss—"

It bounced up in the air, hovering above the table. Chuy made a concerned noise as it somersaulted in place.

"—to endure, once again, the complete and total abandonment by everyone you've ever known and loved."

The glass torpedoed toward Rey. It whizzed past her head with an incredible speed, completely bypassing her outstretched hand, and smashed into the wall. Bits of tempered glass burst into a cloud and rained onto the carpet.

Rey didn't even know she was crying until a hot stream dripped down her cheek. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to." She didn't really know what to do with herself since she had nowhere to which she could retreat, so she just sat there, staring at her hands in her lap while tears leaked onto the fine linen napkin laid across her thighs.

Maz leaned to the side and gave a gentle pat on Rey's shoulder. "Don't worry yourself about it," she said, cheerfully. "It's just a glass. I can always get a new one." She smiled to herself, as if she was sharing a special secret. "Ah, but talent like this? Like you? That's rare. You can't just get that off the shelf!"

"What's wrong with me?" Rey asked, angrily wiping the tears away with her napkin.

"There's nothing wrong with you," Leia chided in a gentle voice. "What's wrong is that our kind have been forced to the brink of extinction."

"Our kind? What do you mean?"

"My history lesson!" Luke said, eagerly clapping his hands together. "Tell me, Rey, what do you know about the Jedi?"

Rey's mouth twitched at the corner. "Not much," she confessed, apologetic. "Only that it's a derogatory term of sorts."

"And how did you come to that conclusion?"

"I don't know.. it was something I was taught, I guess. From school? Other people? The world in general?" Rey racked her brain to remember if she ever learned what was the true meaning behind the hostility toward someone called a _Jedi_ but couldn't pinpoint. "I just assumed it was synonymous with calling someone a 'freak' or 'outsider.' I dunno, wasn't a Jedi a type of mythological human?" Now she was getting even more confused. Why would that be such a bad thing?

"Was that mythological?" Maz said. "The whole part where you snatched one of my wine glasses out of the air and sent it across the room without touching it?"

Rey fiddled with her napkin, rolling and unrolling it nervously, as if she had done something wrong. "No…"

"You know what a jinni is?" Luke asked.

"Yeah, it's a genie, right?"

"Correct. _Genie_ is the French word; _al-jinn_ is Arabic. It's a word of otherwise ambiguous origin but could mean anything to describe an action of hiding or concealing, or even a being concealed from the senses.

"Historically, in ancient times in Arabia, jinn were not the immortal and magical beings that movies and TV have shown us, but they were still special beings nevertheless. They were spirits, or lesser angels, or other types of supernatural beings. In some cases, they acted as muses for humans, inspiring their arts but other times, they could also be responsible for darkness and disease."

Rey scrunched her nose and resisted the urge to laugh. This day was getting stranger and stranger. "You're saying I'm a genie? Do I have to go live in a magic lamp now?"

Luke dropped his head in his palms. "No, Rey, you're not going to have to live in a lamp."

Rey gulped down half of her wine. "I have had one of the craziest days of my life. I can't go back to my job, I can't go back home. As much as I appreciate some academics, right now, all I'm worried about is how you two have read my mind and how I'm able to go full Matilda on a wine glass."

"Forgive my brother, who likens himself to a professor," Leia said. "What Luke was getting at is that you, me, him, anyone who has this talent, we're connected. We're human, of course, but we all share some common ancestors. Those of us with these abilities – we all go back to these jinn." She looked to Luke for confirmation. "That's what we think, anyway."

Luke nodded. "The jinn were recognized for their tremendous gifts. A sort of religion grew in honor of them; we're not certain if it were the jinn that founded it or if people around them cultivated it. Either way, as their following grew and their powers became more widespread and known, the jinn referred to themselves as Jedi. The part of the world where the first ancient Jedi temples were found are in Jeddah, near the Red Sea. But, their influences grew far beyond those borders, thousands of years ago."

"And what does this all have to do with Hoth? Why does Hoth care about what sounds like reviving an ancient religion?" Rey inquired.

"It's not necessarily about the religion," Maz said. "It's about the people."

Luke nodded and had a slurp of curry before continuing. "Skywalker Enterprises has been responsible for acts of mass genocide, illegal weapons trades, environmental scourging, and just about pretty much any other sin against humanity and the planet that you can think of."

Rey's head swam. "But this –this is your family's company, isn't it?"

Leia nodded. "Skywalker Enterprises wasn't always like this and I admit, it took a while before Luke and I realized what was happening as we grew older. It wasn't easy to leave. But we managed it – we recruited some of Skywalker Enterprises' talents who were sympathetic to our cause and they helped us build Hoth."

"So what does the company want with Jedi?"

Another twin exchange glanced between Luke and Leia.

"Nothing, maybe," Luke said, casually. "But many of their crimes are committed in places that are historic to the Jedi religion and have contributed heavily to the decimation of our kind. Those mountain villages and hot desert towns with funny names that pass by on the ticker scroller on cable news – you know those, yes?" Luke began ticking off on his fingers. "Journalists killed. Chemical attacks killing school children. Suicide bombings in Ashdod, Chabahar, Tehren. Yemen's humanitarian catastrophe growing. And how many times do we hear about dozens of people dying from bombings, cars driving into markets, thousands of refugees fleeing their homes, just little snippets of horrific news from half a world away that scroll by almost inconsequentially at the bottom of the TV screen while the newscasters are babbling on about the latest presidential or celebrity gossip?"

Rey exhaled a heavy sigh and finished the rest of her wine. She pondered for a good few moments. "There's something there that Skywalker Enterprises wants," she declared. "Besides oil."

Luke shrugged, noncommittedly. "Maybe yes, maybe no. But what businesses Skywalker Enterprises has conducted across the globe has created such a negative force upon the planet and humanity, we can't in good faith permit that to continue. Our names are attached to that company, too."

"Where do I fit in this?" Rey asked, gesturing to the seated company. "Other than my recently-discovered prowess to preventing second-degree coffee burns, why me?"

"You're like us," Leia responded. "We're almost done for. We cannot let our people die."

"Besides," Luke interrupted. "Besides being talented in these gifts, you're young, you're attractive, and you're smart." He stood up and tossed a copy of _The Economist_ magazine next to Rey's plate. The cover featured a cartoonish depiction of Ben Solo gobbling up the Middle East. "We need you to help bring the prodigal back to the fold before it's too late."


	8. Chapter 7 - The Once-Familiar Stranger

_Present day_

Leia and Chuy flanked Rey, escorting her out of the hospital to the SUV waiting in the parking structure. Rey didn't even notice the nervous glances from Leia as the older woman surveyed the area; her body was finally calming down from the nerves and the pleasant drug injection she got in the emergency room. By the time Rey climbed into the backseat, she was dozing off, and Chuy had to help her get comfortable with a travel neck pillow and blanket he found in the backseat, taking care to avoid nudging her sore shoulder.

When Rey woke up, she was still in the backseat of the SUV, the pre-dawn light straining to crest the horizon. Rey rubbed the sleep from her eyes and through the darkness, could see the unmistakable low curves of the desert hills and the array of lazy, spinning blades of hundreds of wind turbines.

"What are we doing in the desert?" she yawned, her senses waking. They must have been driving for a couple of hours to find themselves en route near Palm Springs, of all places.

"It's not safe to stay back in town right now," Leia said. "That was real ballsy of him, to come to your place." She huffed, annoyed by the audaciousness of the estranged Ben.

Rey sat up, wincing from the pain radiating down her arm and hugged the sling close. "So we're going to…?"

"Do you consider yourself a lucky person?"

Rey looked down at herself, then back at Leia, and laughed. "Not particularly."

Leia grinned. "Well, let's take a night off."

Chuy navigated the SUV through a congested road, then pulled up in front of a lavish hotel.

"A casino," Rey said, dryly. "We're out in the desert and we're staying at a casino?" At this point, after this long with these people, she wasn't even surprised that they ended up at Morongo, a Mecca for the old and old alike. She knew that Leia had a secret gambling vice that she didn't get to indulge as often as she'd like.

Leia shrugged. "Security in these places are top-notch, believe it or not. We'll figure out what we're going to do about your appointment with Mr. Solo tomorrow. But we're going to stay here tonight. Is that okay with you?"

"Not like I really have a choice, since we're already here," Rey said. Although, she was looking forward to getting away and having the opportunity to do something relaxing. A massage maybe, or a dip in a hot tub...

"I've already made you an appointment," Leia said, nonchalantly. "Under a pseudonym, of course."

Rey scowled. "I thought we promised each other that we wouldn't pick each other's brains."

"Oh, I wasn't," Leia smiled. "I just know you all too well."

Chuy dropped the two women off in front of the hotel entrance and elected to park his car himself; he didn't like valets messing with his vehicle. Rey let Leia hold onto her good arm and guide her to check-in.

"Mmm, don't you love it," Leia inhaled deeply as they walked past the clanging and chiming of slot machines and through an impenetrable haze of cigarette smoke. "Such a plethora of vices available to us and it's much closer than Vegas!"

Rey wrinkled her nose at the ashy scent hanging in the air and recoiled as they walked by an old woman who was tethered to a slot machine and hacking a horrible, phlegmy cough. "Yeah. Love it."

"Why don't you sit down while I get us checked in?" Leia suggested, leading her to a cluster of couches near the front desk. "I'll only be a minute." She cast a wary look around the room before she walked away from Rey.

Rey's shoulder hummed with a throbbing pain. She wished she had an ice pack or something to dull it; the drugs were wearing off and she could already feel the bruise spreading. She thought of the officer and his worried face. Reaching her good arm into her borrowed jacket's pocket, she felt his business card and fingered it gently, rubbing her fingertip along its edges. The cop, Poe, knew. Was he on their side? He couldn't be – Rey immediately quashed that thought. Trusting people did not come easy to her and trusting law enforcement was even more remote from her capabilities. But still, she felt safe with him.. near him.

Rey sat and people-watched until Leia and Chuy reappeared. The three went upstairs to one of the top-level floors, where the nicer suites were housed, and dropped their stuff off in their room. Leia had scheduled massages for all three of them, mainly for the guardian to be close by in case if anything happened, but that didn't stop Rey from giggling at the thought of the massive, burly man wrapped in a fluffy robe, sipping cucumber water.

Ten minutes later, the three were in the waiting room, all wrapped in fluffy robes. Rey grinned goofily at Chuy, who was enjoying a cappuccino into a ceramic mug which looked ridiculously tiny in his hands.

"Chuy doesn't strike me at the kind of guy who enjoys a spa treatment," Rey whispered to Leia.

Chuy huffed and turned away while he sipped daintily from his mug.

"They always make him pay extra because he's so hairy," Leia revealed. "They have to use extra massage oil."

Rey giggled again but was interrupted by an employee calling her by her cover name.

"Daisy?" a smiling woman in a pastel outfit unlike scrubs appeared in the waiting area. "Your room is ready. Follow me?"

Rey hopped up and trailed after the woman to a small room where calm, meditative music was playing from a speaker and a massage table awaited.

"I understand you have a sore arm today, so I will advise the masseuse to avoid the area," the woman said, scribbling on a clip board as Rey kicked off her slippers.

"That's right," Rey said, unknotting her robe's belt.

"Any other areas to avoid? Do you prefer soft or deep?"

"No, and um.. medium?"

"Any allergies to any certain fragrances or oils?"

"Not that I'm aware of. But I don't care for lavender."

The woman scratched a few more notes and smiled. "Please strip down to what you are comfortable with and lay face-down on the table. Your masseuse will be here in a few moments." She excused herself and left Rey alone to the whispery tones of Enya.

Rey gently pulled off her robe and draped it over the back of a chair. The air was chilly and her skin immediately goosepimpled. Down to just her panties, she crawled on top of the table, eased herself down, and pulled the blanket over herself as she pressed her face into the funny horseshoe-shaped pillow. She was grateful to realize there was a warming pad under her, which felt great on her arm.

A few moments later, there was a warning knock on the door, which opened after a polite moment's hesitation then quietly closed. A pair of feet shuffled purposefully toward one corner of the room, then to another, then there was a sound of a dispenser pumping. A warm, oiled hand alighted upon Rey's back, gently but firmly stroking up and down her spine.

Rey had to keep herself from moaning. She couldn't remember the last time she had such a treat and the worries of the past few days were dissolving with each stroke, knead, and soft touch.

The masseuse worked her way down the entirety of Rey's body, dutifully tucking the sheet around her private areas so as to not expose her while she coaxed every angry knot and muscle to relax. She rubbed some warming gel into Rey's tender arm and the pain faded to almost nothingness. Once she had reached Rey's feet and titillated and seduced every toe, she gently lifted the blanket and whispered for Rey to roll over on her back.

Yawning, Rey tenderly switched sides, pressing her palms to her eyes to rub the sleep from them. As she did that, a warm, scented cloth appeared above her face, and she moved her hands just enough for the masseuse to lay the cloth over eyes. A sweet, citrusy scent filled Rey's nose and she felt her body melt into the table.

Another half hour or so passed in this way, the delightful smells, sounds, and most importantly, feels of a most relaxing massage. Rey was almost sad when the masseuse's touch finished at her feet, as she knew it was over.

Unseen hands pulled the cloth away and the masseuse asked, "How was that, Miss –"

A gasp.

" _Rey_?"

Rey blinked rapidly to clear her vision. A disembodied, upside down head gawked at her. A face, framed in blonde hair, and piercing grey eyes.

"Kelly?!" Rey choked out, bolting upright. She immediately snatched up the blanket to cover herself, not caring she had just flashed her former best friend.

"What are you doing here?" Kelly hissed, her face changing instantaneously between shock, hurt, and anger.

"I'm, I-, I just—" Rey stumbled, unable to find the words.

"Where did you go?" Kelly demanded. Her eyes softened momentarily as she surely was remembering the event that had happened so many months ago.

"I-I'm sorry," Rey finally managed to say. She tucked the blanket in tighter, feeling uncomfortably vulnerable.

"Rey, I was so worried!" Kelly exclaimed. "After that shift at the restaurant, I just didn't know what to do. I went home, but you never came back. Do you know how worried I've been? I couldn't go back to work after that. I moved away when I realized you were never going to come home." Her voice cracked in anguish.

Abandoning Kelly was an issue that Rey took the hardest when she departed so unexpectedly. How often Rey had practiced what she would say the day she'd ever see Kelly again, and now here she was, her former best friend, standing beside her in utter horror. "I saw your eyes," Rey blurted out. "How in a moment, I became a freak to you. To everyone in that room."

There was a pregnant pause. The truth hung heavy in the air.

"So it's true," Kelly said. "You're.. one of them."

Rey clutched the blanket together to her chest. Kelly assessed her, warily.

"I didn't ask for this," Rey whispered.

"I can't believe it." Kelly looked like she simultaneously wanted to burst into tears and that she also wished she could strangle Rey. "I thought I knew you, Rey. I thought you were my friend."

"I am," Rey moaned pitifully. "Or I was." Her voice trailed off, painfully aware of the status of their friendship. "Kelly, I didn't know.. I just—"

Kelly's expression darkened. "I hope you enjoyed your massage, _Daisy_." She chucked the washcloth in the soiled clothes bin and left.

Rey sat, frozen, still pressing the blanket to her chest. She felt her rapid heartbeat pulsing against her palms, a frantic, hummingbird frenzy. After a few minutes, she willed herself to dress. The pain in her arm returned. A heavy burden sunk on her shoulders. She shuffled out to the waiting area where Chuy and Leia sat.

"That took you a while. Is everything okay?" Leia inquired. "How was your massage?"

"It was fine," Rey said, trying to maintain her emotions at a neutral plane. "I want to get a drink."

"Should you really be drinking after taking painkillers?" Leia instinctively reached out for Rey, placing a hand tenderly on her sore shoulder.

"Stop mothering me, Leia," Rey snapped. "I'm an adult. I don't need you to tell me what to do."

Leia withdrew her hand. Her eyes furrowed worriedly and Rey immediately felt an intrusive knocking inside of her head.

"I told you to stop it!" Rey snarled. Her mental hackles snarled and her wall built up, forcing Leia away with such a shock that the older woman physically jumped backward. Chuy emitted a distrustful, low growl.

"Thank you for the massage," Rey said, curtly. She tightened her robe and angrily flip-flopped away, a furious aura emanating from her body.


	9. Chapter 8 - The Decision

_Six months earlier_

It took Rey a long time to fall back asleep. She laid for hours after dinner, tucked under the blanket in the black-and-white room, tossing and turning while the day's events unfolded and refolded and played and reworked their way on the stage of her mind. She closed her eyes for some time, but all she could see was a barrage of images: Kelly's upside-down face, the levitating tray of coffee, the tattoo under Chuy's eye, the wineglass that hurtled through space, the cartoonish and creepy image of Ben Solo on the front of the magazine. She imagined a human-bulldozer hybrid creature, carving and crunching its way through the earth, gobbling up ancient ruins and magical jinn, with their blood running down his chin like oil.

Mercifully, sleep finally came to her sometime after the twelfth painful run-through of the brunch ordeal and kept her in its grip for many hours. When she finally unraveled herself from her blanket cocoon, the tiny clock on the nightstand read 11:38. She had to peer through the blinds to make sure that it was AM, not PM, and was greeted by a bright morning sun.

She had left her clothes – all of them – crumpled on the floor after she took a shower before bed. They were now sitting in a small laundry basket, neatly folded. Rey realized someone must have come in while she had slept, which made her feel only a little violated.

"Now maybe more violated," she murmured to herself as she pulled her underwear out and noticed her panties had been ironed. "Who does that?"

She hastily pulled on her underwear, trousers that smelled no longer like a restaurant, and tank. She figured she should go shopping for something other than the finest server's attire, but also figured it was a waste of time and money. She wasn't even sure that she had a home to go back to, so why bother? She needed to focus on the more immediate concern of into what cult she may have just been recruited.

Rey pressed her ear to the door before she opened it, straining to hear anything, but there was nothing. She crept down the hallway, down the stairs, and into the kitchen. There was no sumptuous feast waiting, just a plate of leftover cookies from the night before and a bowl of fresh fruit. She grabbed a strangely oversized purple plum and saw there were a couple clean mugs sitting by the coffee pot, so she helped herself to the dregs of what remained in the carafe.

She felt like an awkward intruder even though no one seemed to be around, so she let herself out on the patio where a big umbrella and a half-dozen lounge chairs were perched on the deck.

"Wow!" She couldn't help but marvel. In the middle of suburbia was a veritable wonder of the world right in this back yard. The lawn, lush and green and meticulously trimmed, was broken up by curving rock paths and clusters of plants, bushes, and trees. There were even raised beds, enclosed by low wooden fences, full of ripe and healthy bearing plants. A huge cherry blossom tree towered over a trellis arch where a white wrought-iron loveseat sat. It was a beautiful little paradise in the midst of the concrete jungle.

"Great, isn't it?" a voice asked.

Rey gasped and nearly dropped her mug when she saw a figure, that she hadn't noticed leaning over a rosebush near her, rise and stand tall.

"It's a work of art, really," he continued, tucking a pair of shears in his back pocket and wiping his hands on the front of his jeans. He tossed a handful of sunburnt clippings into a small green waste bin. He grinned a wide grin, flashing his perfectly straight and white teeth, a bright contrast against his dark, rich skin. Rey was intimidated by his musculature and size, but his face was kind and gentle. Her guard relaxed.

"Are-are you the gardener?" was the only thing she could stammer. She hoped he couldn't see her blushing.

"The gardener?" he practically hooted. "Well, I guess you can say that since I'm the only one that really cares about the yard. Maz is lucky to have such fresh produce in our backyard!"

 _Our_ backyard. Rey's eyes cast downward as she stupidly realized her mistake. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were part.. of the, uh.." She gestured around her, unable to really call it what it was.. whatever it is.

"HOTH? Yeah, I am." He smiled again, extending a hand. "I'm Finn." His hand was big, strong, warm. Rey's proffered hand felt small in his grip.

"I'm, uh, I didn't see you last night," she commented, lamely.

"That's a strange name," Finn remarked. "I thought it was Rey?"

 _Are all these people dad-jokers_? "Yes, it is. I mean, it's Rey. And I guess it's strange, too."

"I was busy last night," Finn said. "But it's nice to finally meet you."

"Finally meet me? What on earth have they been telling you? I've just met them yesterday." Rey suddenly remembered she had her coffee in her hand, so she took a long and lingering sip to hide her red cheeks and sat down on the edge of a chair, the plum clutched tight in her other palm.

Finn took that as an invitation to converse, so he dropped down on the chair next to her. "Not a whole lot," he said, casually. "Little bit here and there."

"How could you hear much about me if you were gone last night?"

Finn's gaze was fixed, unblinking. "Well, HOTH has been watching you for a while, of course."

Rey huffed. "Of course." She put her mug on the little table near her and took a bite of her plum, which she immediately spat out, gasping and cursing.

"Who taught you to eat passionfruit that way?" Finn managed to say after he had stopped laughing hysterically.

Rey scowled and _ptooed_ a piece of tough and thick skin out of her mouth. "A what?"

"Passionfruit! What did you think that was?"

"A plum," she muttered miserably.

Finn jumped up and crossed the yard to a corner where a wide horizontal trellis was heavy with waxy, green leaves and a wide breadth of vines that crawled up, over, and down it. He reached around between the leaves then plucked a couple of big fruits, round and purple. He sat down next to Rey and pulled out a knife from his pocket.

"Some people think the passionfruit plant is a pest. An invasive species. Like pike in lakes and dandelions in yards." He flicked open the blade and expertly carved through the hull of the fruit, bisecting it around its middle. "Once its roots establish, it's an almost uncontrollable explosion. I swear, these vines erupted almost overnight. Some people can't understand it and appreciate it. It's quite beautiful, with white and purple petals, and during the spring, it'll be the home of emerging butterflies." He carefully broke the fruit in half, handing one to Rey. "It's beautiful. And tasty."

Rey accepted the strange-looking fruit, cupping it in her hands. It reminded her of an egg, but instead of a yolk, there was a slimy, golden center dotted with tiny black seeds. Her skin was sticky with the juices that escaped. She lifted the unfamiliar fruit to her nose and tentatively sniffed.

"It won't bite, I promise," Finn said. He cupped his half of the fruit in his mouth and slurped the insides out. "Mm, mm! That's perfect!"

Rey followed his lead, sucking the pulp and seeds out in one enthusiastic slurp, and her mouth flooded with a delicious sensation – all tangy and tart and sweet and soft and crunchy all at once. It tasted vaguely like a mango married with a pineapple and a hint of something creamier – papaya, maybe? She had one of those once, long ago.

"That's incredible!" Rey exclaimed, wiping her sticky mouth with the back of her hand. "Why would someone not love that?"

"Because they don't want to see what's inside," Finn said. "All they see is something strange and intrusive, alien and unusual. If it's not a banana or an apple, some people don't want it. And they don't even know what greatness awaits inside!"

"Just like us," a voice chimed in.

Rey nearly jumped from her skin, not expecting to hear Luke standing right behind her. "Warn me next time, will you?"

"Sorry," Luke said, but he wasn't sorry with that smile on his face. "You need to be more aware of your surroundings, Rey. Can't be so easily startled all the time. You remind me of a skittish cat."

"What's wrong with being a little cautious?" Rey frowned. She didn't like being chastised, especially since she's had to glance behind her back ever since she was a child. She never felt safe, never felt secure, never felt much of anything but fear and anxiety since her parents died so many years ago.

"Perhaps this will be your first lesson," Luke mused, half to himself. "We can go over ways to help meditate your anxious feelings away before moving onto other things."

"Whoa, hold your horses," Rey said. "You've assumed that I'm all in in whatever this is. I still haven't made my decision if I'm joining this. You. HOTH. Whatever."

Luke's eyes widened. He wasn't expecting that. "Sure," he finally said. "Whatever you want to do." He shrugged, grabbed the other passionfruit lying on the table, and sauntered back inside the house.

Rey furrowed her brow at Finn. "What is that guy's deal?"

Finn opened his palms out as if saying "who the hell knows?" but instead just smiled again and said, "That's Luke for you."

"I'm beginning to wonder if this was a mistake," Rey muttered. "Maybe I should have gone back and begged forgiveness and for my job back. At least that was normal. That was something familiar."

Finn leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "Rey, you can't do that."

"I can't, can I?" Her eyes darkened.

"No! That-that-that's not what I meant!" he stuttered. "What I mean is – Rey, they'll find you. They'll get you. You could die."

Rey grew cold, even with the hot sun beating down on her. "What do you mean?"

Finn sighed. "I'm not supposed to show you." He unsnapped his phone from its holster on his belt, tapped something quickly on the screen, then turned the phone to show Rey the video playing.

Dramatic, late-night-news-style music play over a black screen. A red logo that resembles a sun ringed with four points, each bursting into three more points, burned onto the background and pulses like a heartbeat with the beat of the music. " _Emergency broadcast. It is the 2_ _nd_ _day of February. I'm your host, Dalraga._ "

"I've seen this logo before," Rey whispered. "Where have I seen this?"

"Just watch it," Finn said sadly.

The screen wipes to a middle-aged man, slightly balding and chubby, with wideset eyes that look almost all black, sitting at a desk with a microphone. The background looks rather professional, as if he was a real newscaster on a real news station. " _News tonight from southern California, the same place that brought you hedonism, liberalism, and other social diseases_." The screen wipes again, this time to a shaky video from the inside of a rather familiar restaurant.

"Oh, no," was all Rey could choke out.

" _An attentive viewer brought this to my attention. Thank you to Patriot76 for live streaming this video_."

The video, unstable and with crackling loud audio, still manages to show exactly what Rey was afraid of.

" _We see here, in our midst, walking among_ our _citizens, taking part in_ our _society, acting like_ she _is one of_ us, _a filthy, real-life, in-the-flesh_ Jedi!"

The camera focuses on Kelly and the toddler, with the tray of drinks hovering above their heads, then nauseatingly pans across the room to Rey. It is undoubtedly, unquestionably, recognizably Rey. She is frozen in mid-step, lunged out like she's about to take flight, her arms poised elegantly before her with her hands spread wide and shaking. She is totally, utterly lost in the moment, focusing all of her energy on keeping the tray afloat. In the background of the video are the shocked faces and dropped jaws of the patrons.

" _Holy shit_." It's the voice not of the channel's host, but the person recording. " _It's a fucking Jedi_!"

There's a camera flash that momentarily whitens the video, then Rey on the video is startled out of her reverie. She is panting, heavily and anxiously. She scans the room frantically and runs out of frame. The video wipes back to the host, who is now ranting and raving about the invasive Jedi and their filthy ways and how the government must simply do something to keep these parasites out of the gene pool and away from their borders.

Rey couldn't continue listening to what the host said. She stared, shocked and unabsorbing, as the video continued to play. Finn had to finally, gently, unravel her fingers from his phone and turned it off.

"I'm sorry you had to see that," he said, after a long while.

"It's okay," she said, not feeling the tears that had streamed down her cheeks. "It's not your fault." She swallowed hard, trying to suffocate a sob that threatened to crawl up her throat. "I'm glad you showed it to me. It makes this decision easier."

"So you'll join?" Finn asked. "You'll join HOTH's cause?"

"Yes." Rey nodded. "I will join this resistance."


	10. Chapter 9 - The Confrontation

_Present day_

Rey dressed herself in the spa's locker room as angrily as one could get – flinging the locker door open with ferocity, throwing the stupid robe on the floor, kicking off the oversized borrowed flip flops so hard they sailed across the room, and dressed with a general distaste for the world around her. She didn't even notice the pain in her arm nor the knots that were knitting themselves back together after a long massage. She was too pissed to care.

She ignored the receptionist's chipper inquiry as she stormed out, not even bothering to leave a tip, and headed straight to the elevator and went back to the shared suite. She thrust open the little suitcase that Leia brought for her and was relieved to find something other than yoga pants and a baggy shirt. Inside were some clean underwear, a pair of nice trousers, a skirt, two shirts, and some toiletries.

Rey's guilt knocked on the back of her mind just a little bit before it was overwhelmed with fury and hurt. She was pissed she saw Kelly, pissed that Leia tried to tap into her mind, just overall, really, really ticked off.

Rey hastily dressed into the skirt and the black shirt which were, of course, tailored. She wasn't sure if she'd ever truly get used to this lifestyle. It had been such a tremendous culture shock when she first joined HOTH. She had a hard time reconciling the money and more importantly, the access to everything, everyone, _life_ in general.

She snatched the toiletries bag and went to the half-bathroom where she continued to angrily rip through her hair with the brush. She felt a little better as she wrestled her hair back into a couple of buns and assessed herself in the mirror. A brick wall hit her.

She suddenly felt herself transported back into the top floor of Solocorp's tower. The mirror was now the window, and she saw her image, blurred and semi-transparent. The rain drops peppered the glass, shimmering with the reflections of the lights of the city, a dazzling, blinding display of gold and red spots. And then, another figure appeared in the background.

 _Ben_.

His words echoed in her head, as if he were right there, whispering in her ear:

 _Then perhaps, I should investigate this matter further._

A chill burst from the base of her spine and shot up it, tingling up behind her ears then flowing down her arms. Her skin bubbled into goosebumps as he drew closer. She could smell him. It was as if he were really there in that living moment.

His face drew closer to hers, but she could not recoil, she could not move. She was grounded in place, unable to budge a muscle. A clean, refreshing scent filled her nose. He had no offensive odor; in fact, she was titillated by the purity of it all. It was so unlike the monster she took him to be.

A hand reached toward her and cupped her chin. The feeling was electric. Rey was certain she would melt into a puddle there. She despised him but desired him. He tilted her head so she was looking at him. Dark eyes, smoldering and lined with thick eyebrows – a lean face with a clenched jaw – a lock of black hair that slipped away and framed his cheek – it was all too much. She wanted him, she needed him. His hand moved from her chin, down her neck, and to-

 _Rey._

A disruption. The feeling was shaken, interrupted.

"Rey, what are you doing?"

Rey's eyes snapped open and she saw not Ben but Leia standing behind her in the mirror. Rey dropped the hairbrush she had clutched so tightly that her knuckles were hurting.

"I—I was—it was nothing," Rey gasped, trying to mask her near-delirious panting. She felt like a teenager being caught by her parents doing _something_ wrong and shuddered from a chill that shook her.

Leia's face showed that she wasn't entirely believing Rey. "I felt something," she said. "I wasn't prying. I just sensed it."

"Please." Rey said. "I need some time alone." She picked up the brush and threw it back in the toiletry bag, shouldered past Leia who reluctantly stepped out of her way, and headed toward the door.

"Be careful," Leia pleaded, knowing that was all she could say or do.

Rey nodded curtly, letting herself out of the room as Chuy quietly warbled a note of concern.

Downstairs in the casino, the night life was in full swing. The air was heavy with the smell of cigarette smoke and the deafening sounds of clamoring slot machines. Somewhere, a group was whooping excitedly at a poker table. Rey's feet navigated her through the maze around the machines, dodging cocktail waitresses and clusters of people clogging the paths as they gawked at someone hitting a jackpot.

She found herself approaching a circular bar in the midst of it all. It was nearly full, with only a couple seats belly-up. She squeezed in an empty seat situated between two chain smokers who were both occupied with sipping their drinks and feeding the hungry in-counter slot machines with a parade of twenty-dollar bills. The bar had half-a-dozen television screens hanging above it, showing a mixture of channels: some romance dating show, a sports game, a major cable news station broadcasting yet another claim of possible life found on Mars, and three different commercials for weight loss devices. Rey was reminded why she hated watching TV so much.

"What can I get you?" the bartender asked, depositing a squat water bottle and napkin in front of Rey.

"Um, a beer, please. A hefeweizen, if you have it. With a lemon slice." Her order arrived within moments, a fresh lemon wedge hanging onto the edge of the frosty glass. She slid her credit card over to open her tab, glancing out of the corner of her eye to see that her neighbor on her right scored a virtual straight flush. The machine chiptune happily played a flat arpeggio that trilled up and down as the payout counter in the corner ticked the numbers up. The middle-aged man was completely disinterested and unexcited.

Rey was strangely insulted when she saw the man win what was essentially her rent – or what it used to be, when she was a broke, working stiff – and didn't even blink an eye. But she supposed she couldn't be too surprised. A couple of expensive rings were squeezed over his fingers and the face of a Patek Philippe peeked out from the cuff of his handsomely-tailored shirt. His name-brand sunglasses shielded his eyes from the smoke of the cigar he puffed on. He wasn't lavishly nor loudly dressed, but wore fine things. Rey hated him immediately.

She sipped at her beer then realized her own hypocrisy as she watched the tired bartender turn his attention to a gaggle of glamorously-dressed cougars a few seats away. Rey also wore tailored clothes and now had many fine things. The poker jackpot would be nice, sure, but she could certainly still appreciate its value even though she hadn't a need for the money now. And she wasn't wearing fancy jewelry or smoking Cuban cigars, even though she could afford it. She knew how to hide her fortunate status well; she reconciled this with herself. Still, she guiltily dropped some cash - the price of the drink - in the bartender's tip bowl because she could and because she remembered how terrible it was to constantly server ungrateful people.

"You can take the girl out of the waitressing, but not the waitress out of the girl," a familiar voice slurred.

Rey didn't even notice the other bar mate had departed; she was too engrossed in her own weltschmerz and her contemplation was interrupted by the appearance of Kelly in the vacated seat.

Kelly flopped on the bar stool with the gracefulness of a toddler. She was drunk, really drunk. Rey didn't know what to say, so she didn't say a thing.

"Too good for me, huh?" Kelly scoffed. She waved her arm to catch the bartender's attention. "Hey, hey, barkeep! Rum and coke!"

"Rum and coke, _please_?" Rey muttered.

"First, you're a fucking Jedi and now, you're the queen of manners, too?" Kelly snatched the ash tray near Rey and plunked it down in front of herself. She pulled out a pack of cheap cigarettes and lit one up just as the bartender delivered a squat glass full of ice and amber.

" _Thank_ you," Kelly said loudly and sarcastically, wrinkling her nose at Rey as she said it.

"I didn't know you smoked," Rey said, quietly. She sipped prudently at her beer, hoping that her hand wasn't shaking too much that Kelly would notice.

"Well, I do." Kelly took a long drag and exhaled a cloud of noxious, foul-smelling smoke. The tendrils snaked up and around her face, which looked tired and a little haggard. There were a couple lines around her sharp, blue eyes that hadn't been there before, and her wavy blonde hair was limp and cut short.

"When'd you start?" Rey asked, taking another swig of her beer. Each sip made her feel braver.

Kelly laughed, as if that question was too stupid to be asked. "When do you think I did? Oh, thereabouts maybe six months ago? Can you think of anything major that happened back then that could maybe affect someone a bit?" She sucked on the filter of the cigarette, hard. The cherry at the end blossomed brightly and dropped a ball of ash just on the rim of the tray.

"That's a terrible reason to start smoking." Rey mused over her first few months at HOTH and how lonely, lost, confused, and upset she had felt, and she got through it without picking up any addictive vice. Well, except to Maz's cookies, but it's not like those would be giving her lung cancer.

"Smoking is the worst thing that's happened to me in the last few months," Kelly said, sharply. She chugged half of her drink and dropped her head, swirling her glass so that the remaining ice clinked. She wobbled a bit in her seat, the alcohol hitting her quite hard. "You don't know what mess you left behind, Rey-Rey."

Rey's heart clenched at the sweet nickname. On her first day at the restaurant, Rey nervously stuttered when she met the extroverted and bubbly blonde, and for a week, Kelly genuinely thought her name was "Rey-Rey," so it stuck.

"Kelly, I didn't mean to."

Kelly lifted her head. The whites of her eyes were tinged red and glossy. "I believe you. Maybe." She finished the rest of her drink, half-heartedly slammed it back on the counter, and indicated for the bartender to bring her another. "Maybe you didn't mean to, but you still did it."

Rey followed suit and finished her drink. "What did I do?"

"Where do I begin?" Kelly dramatically started ticking on her fingers. "Um, well, I think the big one is that _you lied_ to me. You kept _you_ a secret. That's two things. You then showed it off to the whole friggin' world. Then you left. Never came back. No notice, obviously, and I lost the deposit when I had to move out. And you didn't even come back for your shit." She took another greedy sip as soon as a fresh drink appeared in front of her. "And then they came looking for you."

The bartender put another beer in front of Rey and she gripped it tightly, her hands cold from the glass. She needed something to ground her as her anxiety suddenly skyrocketed and the world was threatening to tilt around her. "They? They who?"

Kelly stared off in the distance, her eyes glazed as she remembered what must have been something horrible. "I was home alone. It was a week or two after you'd gone. I had gotten fired. Or maybe I quit. I don't remember. But it wasn't good at that place anymore. I was called a Jedi sympathizer behind my back. I know they wouldn't outright let me go for that, because that would be discrimination or some crap. Whatever. That place was a hellhole anyway."

"Kelly," Rey prodded, gently. "You were home alone and what happened?"

"I must have left the door unlocked. There was a knocking, a big loud pounding, and then the door flew open. There were at least five of them, all in black. They were wearing balaclavas. They had guns. But I tried to get away, anyway. I thought it was worth a shot. I couldn't run very far, of course. That stupid bedroom window with the bad hinges? I couldn't even get that open enough to crawl out onto the fire escape." She closed her eyes momentarily. "I can still feel his hands on my waist, pulling me away from the window." Kelly's second drink disappeared after that.

"They put a hood over my head. I tried to figure out where they were taking me, but I was so disoriented. I couldn't tell what direction we were going or for how long we drove." She rubbed at her forearm and Rey noticed a faint scar cut across Kelly's fair skin. "I didn't even have shoes on. It was cold outside. I remember walking across a parking lot and then I knew I was in a big space, because it echoed. It was a warehouse, maybe.

"It was like something out of the movies. They brought me into a windowless room with a concrete floor and walls. One lightbulb from a desk lamp they had on the floor aimed at me. They tied me up to a metal chair. I remember wishing that I had left my bra on because I'm sure they could see how cold I was." She laughed, sardonically, at the strange thought.

"I don't know how long I was there. Hours, maybe. It could have been a day. I'm certain it was night when I woke up in my bed later.

"They interrogated me. They wanted to know who you were, where you were from. If I knew what you were and why didn't I report it to anybody? Surely, immigration would like to know. Surely, the FBI would like to know. I begged them, told them I didn't know anything." She scowled at the memory. "The one guy, his breath. It was so bad. It was like something died. I think that was almost as worse."

Rey's interest was piqued. "Do you remember anything about him?"

Kelly pondered for a moment then frowned. "No, not really. I think he was a white guy. Maybe Latino. His eyes were brown, yes, I know for sure. Because I thought it was so strange that one of his pupils was malformed, like it was melted into two water drops. And he was the only one wearing something different. I mean, they were all in black but on his arm, there was a logo. It looked like a red sun. It kind of reminded me of the sun on the New Mexico state flag."

"Red, with four arms?" Rey inquired. "And each arm broken into three rays?"

Kelly regarded her suspiciously. "Yes. How the hell do you know that?"

Rey's tell of when she was hiding something was quite obvious, especially to someone like Kelly.

"I see how it is," Kelly frowned. "You know, a little apology would have been nice. Maybe some sort of communication to let me know you were okay. But you just dropped off the face of the planet, Rey. Not a word. Not a fucking word."

"I'm sorry," Rey whispered. "I couldn't.. I wasn't able to come back. I had nowhere else to go."

"You had a home." Kelly set her jaw tight and made a thin line with her lips. It was what she'd always do whenever she tried to keep herself from crying. "You had a home with me. And you left me."

Rey wrapped fingers around her glass even tighter. "Kelly, you know what they'd do to people like me. I couldn't come back."

"So, you admit it then," Kelly spat. "You _are_ one of them!" Her voice was rising to a subdued hysteria. "Straight from the horse's mouth!"

"Kelly!" Rey hissed. A few people around the bar were glancing over in their direction. Rey hoped that the sounds of the clanging machines and general cacophony would drown out what Kelly was saying, but the drunken blonde was elevating her voice to combat the other noise.

"You think you could just – just drop it all! Leave me behind! And go frolic with your little magical _freaks_! You freaks of nature! You're abominations!" Kelly slurred, her tone sharpening and her eyes darkening. The bartender was calling someone, probably security, as Kelly sent her glass crashing over the bar with a drunken sweep of her arm. "You don't belong here! You never did! Rey, you're just another filthy J—Juhhh—"

"I'm sorry," Rey whispered, guarding herself against the tears that threatened to fall.

" _Uurkkk_ —" The noise that crackled out of Kelly's mouth was inhuman and disturbing. She collapsed out of her chair and held herself up against the bar with one hand while the other clawed at her throat. A murmur of concern rose around them as the other patrons gawked and drew away. A couple of security guards were crossing the casino floor and hurrying to the bar.

"I think she's allergic to lemons," Rey calmly told the bartender, pushing her half-drunk glass aside. She loosened her mental grip on Kelly's throat and slipped away as the security descended on the scene.

She stumbled across the casino floor, struggling to maintain her composure. Once she got far away enough from the bar, no one took a look toward her, as she just looked like any other drunk, sad, young woman. She found her way to a restroom, where she locked herself in the farthest stall and sank to her knees.

Trembling, staring at her upturned hands, Rey couldn't find the will to cry; her strength was sapped and her heart, broken. She had no more tears to spare. But still, she felt great shame and whispered piteously to herself:

"What have I done?"


	11. Chapter 10 - When Everything Changed

_Ten years ago_

The yellow school bus groaned to a stop. The vehicle had seen better days. The paint was faded from years of baking under the hot California sun and its rivets and bolts wept rusty stains that streaked across its body. A few letters on the side of the bus had peeled off, leaving the remaining to read VACAVILL UNIFIE SC OOL DISTRICT. The district hadn't seemed interested in repainting the busses that ferried children of the lower-income areas.

The bus doors hissed open and a gaggle of children scrambled off, shrieking and tumbling into the dusty summer heat, ready to begin their long-awaited vacation. The last child, a tiny brunette, leaped away from the steps just as the doors closed, and trailed behind the rest of the group trying to maintain a distance.

A ruddy-faced, red-head boy swung his arms in the air, mockingly, and in a falsetto voice shrieked, "Oh, Mister Rodriguez, I believe the atomic weight of men-dul-ee-vium is 258!" He glanced behind him to see if the girl had heard him.

His friend, an equally stocky boy with a backwards baseball cap, giggled hysterically at the imitation. "Oh, Mister Rodriguez, you're _so-o-o-o-o_ dreamy! Can I kiss you?" He made smoochy noises at his friend and cackled.

The girl pretended to not hear them and hitched her backpack tighter on her shoulders as she hurried down her route on the sidewalk. Just because she liked to spend her lunch break working on science homework with her teacher didn't mean she was in love with him.

"Ignore them," she whispered to herself. "Don't do anything, don't say anything. Just. Ignore. Them."

"Hey, Rey!" The boy with the cap appeared behind her and tugged so viciously at one of her buns, her head jerked backward.

"Quit it, Mikey!" Rey snapped, shrugging him away and quickening her pace as her loosened hair flopped in her face. She was growing nervous as the rest of the kids broke off the route to head in other directions toward their respective homes and she would soon be alone with her bullies.

"Are you gonna miss your _boyyyyyfriend_ this summer?"

Rey stared stonily ahead, determined on putting on foot in front of the other and getting to her auntie's house without incident.

"Hey, Rey! Dom's talking to you, don't ignore him," Mikey yelled, chucking a rock toward her. She sensed it hurtling toward her without even looking. It easily missed her and rolled to a stop under a chain-link fence.

"Yeah, Rey, don't be such a _bitch_ ," the red-headed Dom huffed, feeling empowered by his choice of call-out.

Rey tensed as their footsteps came closer and faster. Gripping her backpack's straps tighter, she also hastened her speed as quickly as she could without giving the appearance of running away in fear. She rounded the next corner and realized she had entered a quiet, tree-lined cul-de-sac.

A pair of hands shoved her, hard, from behind. She stumbled and caught her balance by hitting a wooden fence with her outstretched palms and smashing her face on a rough board. She whirled around and Dom and Mikey smirked at her, closing in.

"Leave me alone," she said evenly, hoping her voice wasn't trembling. A strange fury of emotions whipped up inside of her, tingling her extremities and giving her the feeling that she was on the precipice of a cliff overlooking a very, very long drop. Her legs felt like they'd explode if she didn't take off running that very second, but an equally powerful force kept her rooted in place, readying to fight.

"Or whatcha gonna do? Call for help? See if your boyfriend will come rescue you?" Dom grinned widely, showing his crooked teeth and the missing bottom one he had lost last week in a schoolyard brawl. "Get her, Mikey!"

Rey was usually quick to react but Mikey was bigger and faster. He grabbed Rey from behind, locking her under her arms and crushing her backpack between them, surely smashing her intricate string art she had intended to give to her auntie. But that was the lesser concern right now, as she realized Dom was coming toward her with a very strange and disarming look on his face.

"Maybe you need to know what it's like to kiss a real man," Dom decided, raking his fingers through his fiery locks. His thick tongue shot out, moistening his lips as he readying to engage his prey.

 _Oh, no. Oh,_ GROSS! Rey realized his true intention and shrieked out in horror but Mikey stretched a hand up to cover her mouth. Desperate, Rey wriggled around in Mikey's grasp but his grip only tightened. The cootie-festering bully was almost on her and his eyes locked on hers. Rey glanced up, saw a great limb of a tree hanging above, heavy with branches and leaves, and blasted her focus toward it. There was a great crackling noise and both boys looked up and screamed out in unison.

Rey took advantage of the distraction and pushed away from both boys just as the tree limb dropped right between them, narrowly missing their heads, but not without whipping them on its way down and knocking them to the ground.

"What the hell!" Dom screamed, struggling his way out of the canopy of branches that covered him. His head popped out like a gopher, leaves stuck every which way and his face scratched and burning the same color of his hair. "What did you do?!"

Rey stammered and no words came out. She glanced up at the tree where the limb was evenly cleaved and smooth. The boys followed her gaze then back at her, shocked and horrified.

"She's a witch!" Mikey accused, clambering out from the leafy prison and making a start for Rey.

Something inside of Rey rose in urgency and commanded her, _run_! And so, she did. She ran and ran, faster than she ever had before in her life, and did not stop running until she had made it to her auntie's house, up the stairs, and into her bedroom, where she slid under her bed, muffling her screams into her pillow.

###

Rey wasn't sure how long she laid there, absolutely exhausted and drained. She replayed the scene over in her mind and was absolutely certain that she was going to be in big trouble. Any moment now, she was certain a police officer would come to get her and take her away to prison.

"Rey?" a quiet voice called up from downstairs. Her aunt. "Rey, come down for dinner, please."

Rey poked her head out from under the bed. "I'm not hungry!" she yelled. In truth, she was, but she was also scared to leave the sanctity of her room.

"Rey, I'm not in a mood to argue. Come down, please!"

She paused. "Is it safe?"

"What? Of course, it's safe. It's spaghetti and meatballs."

That's not exactly what Rey meant, but her stomach growled at the mention of her favorite dish. "Coming!" She shimmied out from her hiding spot, creaked open her door and cast a wary glance around in case anyone was hiding and readying to arrest her, then thundered down the stairs to the kitchen where Auntie was shredding cheese over their bowls.

"What were you doing up there so long?" she asked Rey. She sat down in the chair opposite of her niece and looked more tired than usual.

Rey shrugged and shoved an entire meatball in her mouth. "Nuh-in."

"How was your last day of school?"

A shrug, again. "Okay."

"Did anything interesting happen?"

Rey scowled a bit, wondering what was with the interrogation and looked back down at her bowl. "No."

Her aunt twirled some spaghetti on her fork and contemplated it without putting it in her mouth. It was if she was too tired to even lift her hand. "I heard a couple of your classmates were almost hurt by a falling tree on their way home. Did you see it?"

"No."

The older woman's eyes flickered toward Rey for a moment then back down. "I see. Well, whatever happened, I'm glad you weren't around to get hurt."

Rey pushed a meatball around her tiny mountain of spaghetti noodles and felt very guilty for some reason. She wanted to confess, so badly, about the funny feelings she's been having and how lately, she's been able to _do_ things, things that normal people aren't supposed to be able to do. She loved and trusted her aunt, and she was the only family she had left. But why couldn't Rey summon the courage to tell her?

Maybe now was the time. She was nearly ten years old, practically an adult. She decided to act like one. Rey cleared her throat. "Auntie, I—" She looked up and stopped. "Auntie, you have spaghetti sauce on your nose."

Her aunt cocked her head slowly to the side, not fully registering what Rey had just said. Almost mechanically, she raised a finger under her nose and swiped. A big red blob clung to her fingertip and she stared at it, unmoving.

Something was very wrong. Rey could feel a fluttering, panicked sensation and it filled her up with anxiety. "Auntie?!" Rey pushed away from the table and rushed to her aunt's side. She was wobbly, trying to stay upright, and blood began to trickle out of her nose and ears.

"Rey-" was all she could choke out before her eyes rolled back and she collapsed onto the linoleum.

There was a funny feeling that overwhelmed Rey. It was like a giant ocean wave crashed over her and knocked her over, sucking her lungs dry of any breath and filling her ears with nothing but the sound of a thick and heavy pulsing. It was the same feeling she had earlier with the bullies, but it was a thousand times more powerful and terrible. She couldn't breathe, she couldn't move, she was tumbling, head over feet, as the wave recklessly and carelessly drowned her.

 _Move. Move!_ That voice, again, that compulsion to awaken. There was a thunderclap in her head and Rey found herself back in reality. She wanted to stop and scream and throw up and go hide under her bed but she needed to do something. She raced out of the house and to her neighbors, the Grants. Mr. Grant was a retired firefighter. He would know what to do.

Rey balled her hands into fists and pounded on their front door, not caring if the whole neighborhood heard. "Mr. Grant! Mrs. Grant! Help! _Help_!" In seconds, the door flung open.

"Mr. Grant! It's my aunt!" Rey cried out, unable to formulate any other words. She didn't wait for his response, and she tore off back to her house.

"Honey? What's wrong?" Mrs. Grant called from the living room.

"Call 911!" he yelled out, rediscovering his youthful nimbleness as he leaped off of his porch and took off after Rey.

###

The lady from the state agency was nice, but she wasn't like Mrs. Grant. She also wasn't like Auntie. She looked at Rey like she was a sad little thing, all alone in the world – and even though it was true, Rey hated the way she talked to her, like she was dumb or broken. She had brought Rey a stuffed animal, a funny little creature that looked like a puffin. That was one thing of which Rey was willing to negotiate her feelings toward the strange woman. The toy hadn't left her arms since Jane from the State had arrived.

"Are you hungry, Rey?" Jane asked from her crouched position on the floor. Rey had taken refuge under the row of chairs in the hospital waiting room, cuddling the puffin and shrouded in a blanket that Jane had asked for from a nurse.

Rey shook her head. Nothing sounded appetizing. She still could taste the faint flavor of the spaghetti and meatballs and it made her stomach turn.

"Some water, maybe? You really should have something to drink." Jane's brows knitted in concern. She had been sitting with Rey ever Mr. Grant took the girl and followed the ambulance some hours ago, and Rey hadn't even gone to the bathroom.

"I'll go get her something," Mr. Grant volunteered. "Rey, you want a soda? Water? Juice?" The girl didn't answer. "Hmm, well if you don't have any preference, maybe I'll get you a big ol' mug of black coffee!"

" _Noo_ ," came her quiet retort. "Juice, please."

"Atta girl," Mr. Grant smiled, though his eyes were full of worry. "I'll be right back." He headed toward the vending machines down the hall, leaving Rey alone with Jane.

"Rey, we're going to have to go soon," Jane said, laying on the floor and resting her chin on top of her hands. "We need to get you a bag packed so you can go stay with the Johnsons."

Rey's nose wrinkled. "Who are they?"

"They're a really nice couple," Jane reassured her. "They take in children who need a home for a while."

"But I have a home," Rey said, unhappily.

Jane frowned. "Rey, we talked about it. We don't know how long your aunt is going to be in the hospital. And we, um, we can't find any other relatives that you can stay with."

"Can't I stay with Mr. and Mrs. Grant?" Rey asked, pitifully. She didn't like the idea of being so far from home. Besides, whenever Mrs. Grant babysat Rey, she'd let the girl assemble the most insane ice cream sundaes for dinner.

"I'm sorry, sweetie, but we can't," Jane said. "The law says you have to go with a family that has taken our special classes and has a license. Mr. and Mrs. Grant aren't relatives and they don't have the license, so the law won't let me take you to their house."

Rey stiffened at the thought of a police officer coming to arrest her for sneaking into Mr. and Mrs. Grant's house. "How long do I have to be there? At the Johnsons?" She was miserable at the thought. Her auntie had promised that they were going to drive down to Disneyland next month; she had taken extra shifts at work just to save up the money.

"That I don't know, either," Jane said. "I'm sorry, I wish I had all the answers for you."

Mr. Grant returned, groaning quietly as his old knees creaked. He knelt down next to Jane and rolled a bottle of orange juice under the chair. "Here you go, champ. You wanna go say good night to auntie before we go?"

Rey nodded and accepted his hand as he helped her out from under her hiding spot.

"We'll be right back," Mr. Grant told Jane, indicating that she ought to stay behind.

Rey clutched her juice and stuffed animal close to her chest as Mr. Grant guided her toward the intensive care unit, hitting a button that buzzed and then opened up the great, big sweeping doors to the isolated area. "Now, Rey, it's gonna be a little scary in there, okay? Your aunt's not feeling so good, so they have lots of machines and things hooked up to her."

Rey was half-listening. She was taking in, with wide and frightened eyes, the spectacle of the ICU. The first room closest to the entrance had a family gathered around a bed, sobbing, but she couldn't see who was laying in it. Another room had loud, wheezy noises coming from it – there was a man alone and unconscious, his broken legs were raised in traction and a machine hissed rhythmically as it breathed for him. And then came the looks, such sad and pathetic glances from the staff milling around the nurses' station. They looked over at Rey with pained faces that guarded some awful knowledge.

"—so she may not be able to talk, okay?" Mr. Grant finished. "Rey? Are you hearing me?"

Rey nodded, even though she really wasn't.

Mr. Grant set his mouth in a frown and stopped in front of a darkened room. "Put your stuff on the chair here and clean your hands," he instructed, demonstrating the hand sanitizer machine mounted outside the door. Rey obeyed, scrubbing her hands vigorously with the smelly, cold cleanser.

"Em?" Mr. Grant called quietly, pushing back the curtain around the bed. "Emma, it's me, Jarvis. I'm here with Rey."

Rey's heart thudded. There were many scary sounds, like a steady beeping, a mechanical gasping, and other awful noises that made her want to turn around and run away. But she wanted to see her, wanted to make sure Auntie was okay.

"Come on, sweetie, let her hear your voice," Mr. Grant said, gently, not looking at Rey, but at Emma. He wiggled his fingers behind him and Rey grasped them with both hands, and he drew her closer.

"Emma, I have Rey here. She's come to say hello." There was a strangle in his voice, as if he was trying really hard not to cry. "Rey, would you like to say hi?"

Rey nodded again, trying to be strong. She crept closer to the bed, making sure to not knock into any of the many machines that were clustered close.

Her beloved aunt looked so tiny and fragile. Her eyes were nearly closed with a line of goopy jelly smeared across and under her lids. Wires and cables snaked out from under her flimsy hospital gown, leading to a gaggle of machines that read off numbers and vitals and other assessments. Her mouth was agape like a fish, with a ribbed plastic tube fitted in place which inhaled and exhaled on her behalf. At least someone had the kindness to brush her hair; her greying black braid had been neatly rearranged and laid across the pillow. The blood around her nose had been cleaned, too. She looked quite peaceful, as if she were sleeping and not drugged up and tethered to live-saving machinery.

A great sadness swelled in Rey's heart. "Auntie?" she whimpered. "Auntie, it's me. It's Rey." She grabbed her aunt's hand and clutched it tightly; it was limp and unresponsive. "Auntie, please wake up. I want to go home with you. You said we would get to go to Disneyland. I want to ride the tea cups with you. And take pictures. And-and you said we could have funnel cakes together." Now, she was just rambling. "And we don't have to get powdered sugar on them because I know you don't like powdered sugar 'cause it explodes everywhere if you sneeze. Auntie, you have to wake up, because you made me a promise." The tears were falling freely now, and Rey pressed her aunt's hand to her cheek, feeling her warmth and savoring her smell. She imagined her aunt, smiling and healthy. "I made you some art that I forgot to give you when I got home today. I'll put it out for you on your bed so it's there when you're better." She pictured Aunt Emma, radiant and glowing.

One machine started to beep more rapidly. Rey was certain she felt her aunt's hand twitch, ever so slightly. The curtain rattled behind them and a shift nurse appeared.

"Sorry for the intrusion," he said. "I need to note her vitals."

"Come along, Rey," Mr. Grant said. "Let's get your stuff to take for your sleepover at the Johnsons, okay?"

But Rey wasn't ready. She clung to her aunt's arm. The pulsing tone increased. "No, no, she hasn't woken up yet. I need to be here when she does. She's gonna be scared if she wakes up and she's all alone!"

Mr. Grant gently unraveled Rey's grip on Emma's arm. "Rey, honey, we have to go. Your aunt needs her rest."

"I don't want to leave her," Rey cried. "I want to stay here with her."

"Sweetie, you can't. We have to go now. I'll bring you back soon to visit her, okay? I promise." He scooped Rey up in his arms. "Let's give the doctors and nurses the room they need."

Rey wept, loudly and unashamedly, soaking Mr. Grant's shirt with her tears. She did not stop crying on the ride home, nor while she packed her little suitcase, nor when Jane from the State tried to calm her down, nor on the drive to the temporary foster home.

By the time she and Jane arrived at the doorstep of the Johnsons, it was quite late at night and Rey was drained of tears. Sniffling what remained, she stood miserably and held Jane's hand as the woman gently rapped on the door.

Almost immediately, the door opened and a stern-faced woman appeared, wrapped up in a silky bathrobe. Rey immediately recoiled but Jane pulled her close.

"Mrs. Johnson, thank you so much for taking our call so late. Rey's aunt is quite sick—" she mouthed something wordlessly "—and we're happy you can take her in."

"Of course." The woman nodded curtly and widened the door. "Won't you come in? And take off your shoes, please."

Jane and Rey entered, shimmying out of their shoes, and followed Mrs. Johnson to the living room. Rey was impressed at how clean and tidy and nice everything was – her auntie, while she owned her small home, wasn't well-off and many of their belongings were second- or third-hand. Everything looked brand new and shiny in the Johnson home.

"Rey, Mrs. Johnson and I need to go over some paperwork," Jane said while pulling a thick manila folder out of her bag. "So, it'll be a few minutes."

"Rey, would you like some cookies?" Mrs. Johnson said. "I baked them earlier. They're chocolate chip."

The faint smell of cookies awakened Rey's senses a bit. "Yes, please." Maybe this Mrs. Johnson wasn't so bad.

The woman offered a small smile and guided Rey to the kitchen where she set out a couple of cookies and a tall glass of milk. Without saying much else, Mrs. Johnson turned on a small television in the corner and went back to talk to Jane.

Rey tried to distract herself by the tasty treats and the late-night television show that played, but she couldn't help but strain her ears to listen to any snippets of the women's conversation.

"—looks bad—not sure – perhaps had it for a while."

"—family?"

"No—orphan, maybe."

"What happened?"

"Don't know – accident, I read but there's—"

"What's your name?"

Rey gasped and nearly fell from her chair. Peeking around the doorway on the other side of the kitchen was a short girl, her dark hair cut short and into bangs, framing her chubby cheeks.

"Um, I'm Rey." She kept her voice to a whisper, still trying to eavesdrop.

"Are you moving in?"

"No," she said, firmly. "I mean, not right now. Just until my aunt gets better."

"Oh." The girl looked a little sad. "I wanted to have another sister. I used to have one. But she's dead. Can I have a bite? Mrs. Johnson said I had enough at dinner."

"Sure." Rey picked up her last cookie and snapped it in half, holding it out to the girl, who giggled mischievously at the joy of having a forbidden cookie.

"I'm Rose, by the way," the girl said, holding out her free hand for a shake. "I'm eight years old."

"Hi, Rose," Rey said, accepting that she wasn't going to be able to eavesdrop any longer. "I'm ten. Almost ten, that is."

"Neat!" Rose's eyes lit up. "Double digits, cool!"

Rey cracked a half-smile. "Yeah, I guess so. How long have you been here?" It was pretty obvious that Rose wasn't Mrs. Johnson's biological child, since Rose had pale, creamy skin and dark, angular eyes and Mrs. Johnson was freckled and auburn-haired with wide-set green eyes.

"Um, about six months."

"Is it nice here?"

Rose shrugged. "Yeah, it's fine. Mr. Johnson plays outside with me. And Mrs. Johnson is a really, really good cook! C'mon, lemme show you my room! I mean, our room. There's bunk beds!"

"Rose, are you bothering our guest?" Mrs. Johnson shuffled in, tightening the sash around her robe. "Rey's had a very long day."

"I could tell! That's why I was gonna show her the bedroom."

"Let her say goodbye, okay? Rey, Jane's about to leave." She gestured for Rey to come with her and together they went to the foyer where Jane was struggling to zip up her ankle boots.

"Alright, Rey, I'll come see you in about a week to check in on you, okay?" Jane said, squeezing Rey in a comforting but brief hug. "Be good to the Johnsons."

Rey's stomach clenched. "A _week_? You mean, I don't get to go home soon?"

Jane and Mrs. Johnson exchanged that _look_ that only adults can do.

"Well, I don't know," admitted Jane. "Maybe sooner, maybe longer. We just don't really know right now."

"Why don't you know?" Rey's eyes brimmed with tears. "I want to go home and be with my auntie."

"Dear," Mrs. Johnson said, turning Rey around and holding her firmly by the shoulders. "You're going to be with us for a while. I know it isn't fair. It doesn't feel right. I'm a stranger to you and I know that is scary. But you must trust us that we will take care of you. I know I am not your auntie, but I will be the best I can for you. I am here for you. We all are."

"Okay," was all Rey could whisper. She was overwhelmed with the emotions of the last day and the kindness that had been demonstrated to her, but still, she craved her beloved aunt. Her head ached from crying so much already, she couldn't muster a single tear. "Thank you," she tacked on, remembering her manners.

"Rose, show Rey your room and get her settled in, please?" Mrs. Johnson smiled.

"C'mon, sis!" Rose giggled, grabbing Rey's suitcase and thumping up the stairs.

"Good night, Rey," Jane said. Her mouth smiled kindly but her eyes remained sad.

Rey ran up the stairs after Rose and followed her to the large bedroom that housed two bunk beds and an unimaginable number of toys. Her worries, temporarily forgotten, dissolved into a late-night play session with her new-found friend amidst an army of Barbies and Lego. Finally, she collapsed into a deep slumber and enjoyed the last peaceful sleep before the next morning when her world turned for the worst.


	12. Chapter 11 - The Probe

_Present day_

It was a strange sensation.

She had never felt something so like it.

She remembered awkward, fumbling, gasping, panting, moments under tattered blankets and in the backseats of cars and even once in an alleyway, pressed between two dumpsters. She remembered fleeting lovers, many of whom remained nameless: men with rough, calloused hands or smooth skin, dreadlocks she grasped, bald heads she scratched, muscular thighs that tightened their possessive embraces around her. There were women, too; long hair to tug, shaved scalps to nuzzle, the soft, sensuality that a woman's touch only knew how to explore, tiny breasts and pillowy tits, soft asses, hard asses. Every man and woman had an ass she loved, and all of those encounters ended in moaning, sighing, clawing, begging, screaming climaxes, always sweat and smiles and sometimes, tears.

But none of those ever felt like _this._

A furnace, stoked, from outside-in, a mysterious force fanning the flames. A massaging, teasing, seduction of her heart, a throbbing deep within. Delicious and delectable sensations that slipped through her defenses and flooded her, occupying every corner, every orifice, fingering and infiltrating every pore, filling her up with a tremendous and overpowering exhilaration of the likes never before experienced. Something powerful on a most primal level held her sensibilities hostage.

A gasp.

Rey woke with a start. Her pulse was rapid and furious and her heart smashed against her ribs, threatening to burst. As she roused and sat herself up, her body betrayed her sensibilities and a most delicious sensation erupted and nearly caused her to tumble out of bed. She shoved her pillow in her face to muffle her panting and glanced over to the other bed in the room, where Leia slept. Rey trembled again – a bodily aftershock seized with ecstasy– but Leia only grunted wordlessly and rolled over. Surely, she detected that turbulent disturbance, even while unconscious.

Rey padded as silently as she could to the bathroom, wearing only a pair of unusually-wet panties and a shirt, and latched the door shut. She snatched a washcloth and ran it under the cold water. Her hands shook as she brought the cloth to her face. She could not shake the memory of _him._

It was starting to come clearer. The fog, while still heavy, dissipated in some places in her mind. Some flashes of their encounter manifested in hiccups.

Ben's touch came first: his fingers, lingering on her cheek. A hand on her waist. His breath, hot, sweet, on her ear. Half-lidded eyes gazing down at her, consuming her, calculating her, assessing her, _penetrating_ her. And still, she shied away. She stiffened, she recoiled, she built up her wall, but her desire grew and enraged at every attempt he made to get through to her.

 _And then he did._

A cold and impatient knife cut through her mind. He decimated the barrier she crafted and slid in with an aggressive and unrelenting force. He pushed in against her will, baring his teeth to tear inside; she did not want him that far in, but he entered without her permission.

Rey cried out and every bulb framing the mirror above the sink shattered.

"Leia!"

In a second, the bathroom door kicked open and the ceiling light turned on, filling the room with a harsh incandescent light. Leia and Chuy stood in the threshold, mouths agape at Rey amidst a pile of broken glass.

"I need to see Luke," Rey said. "I need Luke right now."

###

Rey couldn't believe how quickly Luke arrived at the hotel once he was summoned. After Chuy swept the broken glass away, she stepped in the shower to scald her skin and soul. She didn't think she was in there for that long, but when she stepped out into the suite's living room, wearing a tank and yoga pants, rubbing aggressively at her scalp with a towel, Luke was already waiting.

"That was fast," she remarked.

"Hmm," he responded.

Rey immediately felt uncomfortable. The way Luke looked at her, it was almost analytical and sterile, as if he had never seen her before and was sizing her up like a stranger. He regarded her coldly, a firm line of a mouth framed by that ridiculously scruffy beard, glacier eyes scanning her, arms crossed, and it was positively unnerving. Rey might as well have walked out there naked and exposed and she would have felt less violated as she did in this moment.

"What is it?" she frowned.

"Nothing," he shrugged. She may have only known him a half-year, but she knew it was _something_. "Will you leave us?" He glanced toward Leia and Chuy.

His sister didn't argue. "Let's go check out the tables," she grinned at Chuy. Her gambling itch certainly needed a scratch and she wasn't about to protest. The two of them hustled out of there and once the door clicked shut, the anxiety surged in Rey's chest and she wished they would have stayed.

"What's wrong?" Luke said. It wasn't a question, but a command to tell him.

"Nothing."

"Rey, come on. You're a terrible liar."

Rey glared at him. "No, I'm not, actually," she retorted. "You think I could have walked into Solocorp's building if I were?"

He crooked an eyebrow. "I'll give you that," he admitted. "Come." He patted the empty seat on the loveseat.

Rey tossed her towel on the floor and eased down next to Luke. She wished she had more clothes on, for some reason, and hoped he couldn't see how she was a bit cold.

"You're going to have to relax," Luke instructed. "No matter how uncomfortable or strange it feels, you have to let your guard down. Don't push me out like you have so many times before."

Rey cast a snarky scowl at him. "Well, the last couple times I remember were a bit unsolicited."

He only shrugged. "Well, you're stronger than I gave you credit for. You're able to detect my presence a lot easier than most."

Rey wasn't sure if that was a compliment but took it for one. "Okay. I won't resist. But don't you go snooping in places you shouldn't be."

Luke raised his hands up in deference. "Scout's honor. I'm only going to access your memories of your meeting with Ben."

Rey sighed, grabbed a sofa pillow, and hugged it to her chest. She exhaled sharply, then nodded. "Go ahead, then."

Luke closed his eyes and she followed suit. His hand rested on her bare shoulder, warm and electric. It was simple as that and he was there in her head.

Rey's every fiber of her being shuddered and rose to resist him, to raise shield and spear against an invader, but his force was powerful, overwhelming, and unsettling. Calling herself to calm down and permitting his entry, she relented a bit. Luke dove in deeper, and she yawned open her mind's abyss to let him in. Everything in her spirit wanted her to repel him, this unnatural and foreign presence, but she had to accept him. She needed him to enter. She wasn't yet as strong as he and she needed to know everything that happened.

Luke tugged and reached around, exploring and teasing out the clouded memories. And then there it was, clear as day, as if she was in the very moment with Ben.

###

" _Our planet is also enduring some of the most cataclysmic forces it has ever known and we are dangerously edging toward the precipice_."

Her eyes flickered toward the window, where she saw his figure approaching. She straightened her shoulders. "If there should be any hope for us all, you'd be wise to take your resources and our knowledge or else there won't be any place on this earth alive to host your larders."

A rollercoaster of emotions emanated from Ben. Anger. Fury. Truth. Heat. Sensuality. She read all of him at once. Her senses that had been dulled, now sharpened. Luke honed them, perfected them, shined them up. She began to see what she had been blinded from.

Ben's voice was closer, thicker. "Then perhaps, I should investigate this matter further."

The little hairs on her neck and shoulders prickled. The room swallowed her, and she was transported to a place, far, far away from reality. The world around her darkened and all she could see, hear, smell, feel, sense was Ben.

And then, he was on her.

"HOTH were fools if they thought they could get to me," Ben seethed, drawing his body close to hers so that he was right behind her. One arm tightened across her chest, the other at her waist. She sensed his desire, his filthy, Neanderthal brain thrumming to life and she was certain he would throw her to the ground and have his way with her, given how his hands were quaking. But his desires were obfuscated with rage and confusion and his hackles bristled. "They-they thought they could send you - to what? Seduce me? Fuck your way to my secrets and my company?" He swept a hand in fury and there was a crashing sound behind them. One of his decorative display cases shattered. "I won't let them take me for a fool!"

Rey found herself speaking when she didn't intend to speak at all. She felt a tightness holding her muscles hostage but she found a way to summon her voice. Her words came but she didn't feel her mouth moving. "HOTH doesn't rely on exploiting the emotional weaknesses of its perceived adversaries, Mr. Solo," she said, slowly and evenly. "We have ethics that dictate our practices. We don't dabble in slights against human rights. As an outsider, it's fairly easy to see where your company is failing."

Ben laughed, hysterically. "The cognitive dissonance is absurd." He released his grip on her, but she still could not move. Her skin chilled and every hair stood on end as she tried to fight his power but he was so strong. He stepped around to face her and towered over her. She never felt so small and helpless. Still, she focused herself to remain calm. Again, she could not speak but she still reached him.

"I don't understand what you're implying, Mr. Solo."

"Don't pretend to be so clueless," he sneered. His hair fell in his face, framing it and shadowing his eyes. He thrust something into her mind to search around, then he stepped back. "You don't know?"

"Know what?"

Ben laughed. "You poor girl! You really don't know!"

She was getting angry and he could sense it. He wrapped an arm around her, clenching her at the waist in a troublingly intimate manner. With his other hand, he cupped her chin and tilted her face upward. "Let me show you, then."

He dipped his mouth to hers, forcing her lips open with a gasp. Her defenses tempered and he crushed her to him so tightly, she could feel his pulse pounding. His tongue probed her mouth and she released a quiet moan in response. The last of her barriers melted and he flooded her mind with ease. The images and his memories burst out in a heartbeat and all at once.

 _A crowd of shadows, running through sand. Darkness slashed in heartbeats of fire._

 _An old man, choking for breath, with eyes disturbingly familiar._

 _Luke, with fewer lines wrinkled in his face._

 _A blonde woman, seen from the back._

 _Leia, smiling with sad eyes._

 _A group of protestors, holding signs and screaming as they run._

 _Waves crashing on a rocky shore, washing over a dead body._

 _A tall man with scruffy brown hair._

His body warmed, his lips were soft, and she was beginning to melt in his embrace, but then her resistance found its way to rise again when she felt him quaver.

 _The old man, again, fierce and angry, projecting a powerful force. Loud, angry words._

 _Leia, glaring, disappointed._

 _Ben, younger but still as handsome. Staring in a mirror, crying unashamedly. The mirror shatters._

He withdrew, holding her at an arm's distance. "You weren't supposed to see that," he snarled. "How did you get in?"

She glared at him, desiring him and wanting to strike him down at the same time. "You were weak," she said, this time with her true voice. She swallowed, moistening her lips briefly then finding the strength to parry. "Because you want me." The darkness around them trembled as his power waned. She saw glimpse of a rainy window behind him, the light breaking through the walls he had raised. "Because you're afraid of me, too. You never thought you'd find someone with whom you'd find an equal." She was getting the feeling back in her limbs and his force withdrew, unwillingly.

"An _equal_?" he roared. The darkness returned, her body electrified to its spot. He circled her, paced her, and she was a broken gazelle readying for a final death pounce. Blackness rose around them. The terror bubbled inside of her as he fumed and raged. "You? Think you're as powerful as I? As great as I? You're just a little girl. You—you have the audacity to walk in here and act like you know me? Think that you can persuade me? I am more powerful than you can ever imagine."

A peace filled Rey, a sudden calmness she didn't know she could muster. "Not powerful enough."

The room, silenced. The air, thickened. The light, waned.

Two strengths rose at once, racing to overpower the other, coming to a head in a furious, impassioned frenzy. Two fighters, dancing and striking, parrying and slicing, an entire combat parlayed with neither combatant physically moving. He lunged, she eluded. She pierced, he deflected. Still, they came closer and closer, grazing and glancing.

"Who are you?" Ben hissed. His lips did not part; he pushed his voice into her head.

"Are you afraid of me?" she repeated.

"I'm never afraid," he sneered.

" _Never_?" she echoed. "I think you're lying." She pushed her will harder and he stumbled, just a bit. That infuriated him and his fury bloomed. The walls grew, the light disappeared.

"What do you really want?" he demanded. He was breaking her, stripping her shield, glimpsing her true feelings and secrets. He reached in, prodding at her, then shifted rapidly and teased something better out.

She choked on a gasp. She thought he would go for her memories of HOTH but he was quick to search for something else that she hadn't thought to guard. He began to see _her_.

 _A crib mobile, in the shape of stars and planets, spinning from above._

 _Rey's mother, smiling and laughing._

 _A tree branch calving, then screams._

 _Sounds of a heart monitor beeping._

 _The worn face of a stuffed puffin._

 _An explosion._

 _An old man's face, too blurry to see the details, but a malevolence nevertheless._

 _Little Rey, glaring at a mirror, and the lights bursting all at once._

 _Officer Dameron._

 _A drunken, weeping blonde._

 _A woman and a man, naked, the curves of their bodies accentuated in glimpses of partial moonlight._

"Stop," she exhaled, physically and mentally pushing him away. Her hand pressed against his chest, where she could feel his rapid pulse, and he grabbed her by the wrist.

"Some of those memories weren't yours," he murmured. He stared down at her darkly. He was panting; so was she. A touch of sweat beaded over his brows and a lock of hair clung wetly to his forehead.

Rey's knees were wobbly. She felt like she just stepped off of the Gravitron at a county fair. She would have ripped her arm away from Ben if only the world would stop spinning, but she needed to remain upright. She'd already lost too much of her composure – and herself.

"They've underestimated you," Ben said in a near-whisper. He studied her now, fascinated. She didn't like the look of those black eyes flickering as they took her in. She might as well have been stark naked considering how he was eating her up with his mind. "You're more powerful than you've let on."

The world began to steady and she tried to tug herself away, but he only drew her in closer.

"Rey," he exhaled, his scent tinged with cinnamon. He brought her face closer to his, again.

"No," she whimpered. She wanted to resist him but felt compelled to concede. She tried to force herself to look away, but she couldn't. She thought he was influencing her, but it wasn't him. It was all her, damned her, giving into his temptation.

"Don't deny what the body desires." It's like he knew what she was thinking.

"I can't-" she began to say, but he swallowed her words with his mouth and swallowed her body in his arms. He was that awkward teenage boy again, fumbling and feeling, caressing and grasping, moaning and kissing unabashedly as he hungrily laid claim to her lips and her ass and her breasts and—

-she felt him tighten, in more places than one, her breath became shallow and punctuated by gentle cries and gasps for air as he held her so tightly, he didn't want to let go, she didn't want him to, and she wanted to taste him over and over and again and her teeth clacked against his once and was that blood she was tasting? There was a fire, a wetness, a desire to be taken and –

 _Rey_.

Something beckoned her, called her, drew her from him.

"No," she whispered again. She pushed him away; this time, he did not resist, though he glowered as she turned her back to him. He sidled closer, close enough to barely touch. Their reflections blurred in the window.

"Don't let those fools at HOTH brainwash you," he snarled. "They'll only use you for their own purposes. They don't care about fostering your gift. They don't want to see you become something greater. They fear you and what you're capable of."

Rey smoothed her hands down her skirt and tucked the tail of her blouse back in. "HOTH saved me. HOTH's mission is pure, it's honest. It doesn't seek to destroy you. It wants to save you." The words, unspoken, that she really meant were the estranged Skywalker family members. But he knew. She didn't have to say it out loud. "Perhaps you should reconsider what you're getting out of this blind and hateful allegiance you have to your dead grandfather and the disastrous legacy he has left for you."

He gritted his teeth. He was insulted. He was beyond angry. "Oh, I should, should I?" He raised a hand at her, two fingers and his thumb pointed, and for a moment, hesitated on what exactly he would do. But he only swiped the air, almost with a gentleness. He felt her body jolt, for just a moment, and then it was over.

The little hairs on her neck and shoulders prickled in feeling his breath on her skin and his hearing his purr in her ears, but she stood strong. "Yes, you should."

###

A sharp gasp snapped Rey out from her reverie. It was her own gasp as she tried to gulp down air, as if she hadn't taken a single breath from when Luke reached inside of her.

Luke's hand lifted from her shoulder, slowly, frightfully. He watched as she hugged herself, willing herself out of a full-fledged panic attack.

"It's so hot in here," she finally managed to say.

Luke hurried to the bar fridge and snagged a bottle of water, offering it to her from an outstretched hand as if getting too close to her would make something explosive happen. She snatched it from him and greedily sucked it down in seconds.

"Your, ah," Luke coughed and cleared his throat. "Your hair is dry?" It came out like a question, since he couldn't really believe it.

Rey patted at her head. Dry. Not a lick of moisture.

"How long..?" Her voice trailed off.

"Not even ten minutes." Luke balled a fist and pressed it to his mouth and paced around the room. "This—this is unlike anything I've seen before. Rey, while I was in there, I sensed something so—so— it's—I can't even think straight! It's like, the two of you, together, your force is amplified. Your energies feed off each other. There was this connection stronger than anything. With your powers combined, this could be catastrophic!"

"Then I can't see him." She was getting frightened. "I can't go back to that, I can't see him again, I'm too dang—" Her chin trembled and her words jumbled. She didn't want to cry, not now.

"Rey," Luke exclaimed, hurrying to her side. "No, you don't get it. This could be it, this could be the key." He held her hands and squeezed them reassuringly. "You _will_ go to him tomorrow. This could be a breakthrough. You absolutely must go."


	13. Chapter 12 - The Voyeur

_Two years ago_

Kelly practically kicked the front door open, struggling with an armful of paper grocery bags. "Rey!" she cried out. "Come help, I'm going to lose the bread!"

Rey bounced to her feet and ran from her room, snatching the loaf that slipped from Kelly's fingers just before it hit the ground.

"Ew, sourdough?" Rey wrinkled her nose, judgingly.

Kelly huffed. "Um, a little help please?" She walked right into her roommate, forcing a load into Rey's arms.

"Ooh, and you got _fancy_ cheese," Rey exclaimed, spying a butcher paper-wrapped wedge in one of her bags.

"Don't you dare," Kelly threatened. "I need that cheese."

Rey plopped her burden on the counter and began sorting through the groceries to help put them all away. "And you got the fresh artisanal ravioli? I didn't even know you liked artichoke. What happened to Chef Boyardee?"

"Ha- _ha_." Kelly grabbed the pasta from Rey's hand and tossed it into the fridge. "Can't a girl treat herself to something nice for once in a while?"

"Well, we don't get paid till next week and you usually shop then, so you're up to something," Rey declared. She popped a purple grape in her mouth and spat the sliver of a seed out in Kelly's direction.

"Get your paws off those, they're organic and cost like, seven dollars a pound!"

Rey practically choked on the grape skin. " _Seven_ dollars? For pre-wine?" Her hands cupped her mouth in sudden shock. "Oh, my god, Kelly, are you pregnant?!" A crumpled-up paper bag to the head was all the answer Rey needed.

"I have someone coming over, okay? And I expect you all will be on your best behavior!"

"It's not the sisters you have to worry about." Rey referred to the pair of sisters who rented out the apartment's largest bedroom. The two were quiet, conservative, and often kept to themselves but sometimes would let loose with Kelly, Rey, and a bottle of sweet wine on the weekend. Despite their differences, Rey was hugely jealous of their relationship, as she had never the joy of siblings, or much of a family for that matter. Kelly was all she really had.

"I know. I didn't want to be an ass and just call you out specifically," Kelly smirked. "Help me clean up, will you?"

The two spent an hour tidying and cleaning the kitchen and living room, even bravely attacking the bathroom to scrub it from the filth that is inevitable when four women are forced to share a small space. When it passed a mediocre muster for cleanliness, the two friends flopped on the couch to share a quick beer.

"So, how'd you meet this guy?" Rey asked, idly flipping through the TV channels. She wished she had someone to warm her bed that night.

"He came into the restaurant. Left me a nice tip and his number," Kelly smiled. "He works as a bartender at The Palm. He's cute."

"Bartender, huh?" Rey sipped at her beer and wondered when was the last time she had hooked up with a boyfriend or a girlfriend or a one-night stand. She never had received a phone number as a tip.

Kelly's phone chirped and she snatched it from the coffee table, eager. Her cheeks flushed as she read a text message and hurriedly finished off her beer. "He's on his way, he'll be here soon, shoo!"

"Save some leftovers for me," Rey demanded, grabbing a couple more beers before reluctantly retreating to her room.

She was happy Kelly finally had someone in her life that made her excited. The last boyfriend her bubbly, blonde friend had was a total creep and an unapologetic racist. Kelly let that relationship live well past its expiration date and Rey hated how his negative tendencies seemed to rub off on Kelly. A bartender at one of the most elite Southern California restaurants? That was already a step above the unemployed dirtbag who stole Kelly's tips from her piggy bank.

Rey twisted open another beer and flopped onto her bed, its springs groaning and squeaking with every movement. The window was open a bit and the sound of the constant and impatient traffic filtered through, an endless stream of whooshing, honking, and squealing that hardly quieted even when she closed it. She studied a crack in the drywall of the wall opposite of her, noticing it had grown bigger since the last earthquake.

She couldn't help but exhale a dramatic sigh. Her apartment sucked, her job sucked, having no family sucked, and the whole living paycheck-to-paycheck thing also sucked. This situation wasn't pure loneliness or total poverty, but oftentimes, it felt like it. She wondered how different her life would have been if her aunt hadn't died, or her parents for that matter. Would she still be living in Vacaville? Would she be roasting in the even more strenuous heat of Phoenix? Maybe she would have grown up happier. Maybe she would have had a puppy. Would she have had a sister or brother? She tried to picture the sound of their voices, all three of them, and realized she couldn't truly recall them.

She didn't even realize she had finished the beer until she put the bottle to her lips and nothing came out. She popped open her other beer and wished she had grabbed more. She wasn't about to escape her cave and be forced to interact with a stranger. And she could hear him now, the new potential boyfriend, a deep and rich voice that carried lushly through the walls. Then, there was Kelly's coquettish tone, giggling in response to something he had said.

Rey flicked her hand in the air and her light switch flipped down. The room darkened considerably, with the moon and street lights casting their shadows. Rey listened to the ambient noise of the hypnotizing traffic and didn't realize she had dozed off until she was woken up by a pained grunt.

She shot upright, her heart pounding, thinking Kelly was in trouble. But Rey quickly realized it was not a grunt of pain or distress but of pleasure. Just on the other side of the thin wall, Kelly and her new beau were getting aggressively acquainted in Kelly's bed.

Rey slowly laid back down, afraid the squeaking of her own mattress would alarm them. She settled under the covers, resting her warming beer on her nightstand, and curled up, trying desperately to ignore the sounds. She felt like a voyeur, an intruder if she listened to them, but it was so hard not to.

Rey had wanted to tell Kelly she could hear practically everything and wanted to request Kelly to move her bed to the other side of her room, but Rey had gotten so used to the sounds when Kelly and her shitty ex were having make-up sex sessions, she didn't really want to say anything. And so much time had passed, it would seem so awkward, so she never did.

And tonight, she was grateful she hadn't. The man's sounds and voice were so close, it was almost like he was in the room with her. How Rey craved the closeness and the attentiveness of a lover. If she closed her eyes, she may be able to pretend he was in there instead.

" _Oh, yes, fuck me like_ that _!_ " Kelly cried out. There was a thud, then a grunt, rhythmic and hard. Rey imagined Kelly with her golden hair, fanned out on her pillow like a halo, gloriously pinned under the taut and chiseled frame of her mysterious lover. Rey imagined his arms were sinewy, their little muscle fibers twitching as he held himself up, bracing himself as he thrust himself fiercely inward, the curvature of his sculpted ass glistening and Kelly's tits bouncing up and down in sync. Kelly liked being fucked hard.

Rey's hand found its way to her own nipple, teasing and twisting it gently. But this man was a rough lover, so Rey twisted it harder and realized that felt even better when she could hear his moaning. Was that a bead of sweat dripping from his forehead? Kelly was probably reaching up, gripping his back with her fingernails as his pace quickened. Little crescent moons surely appeared on his skin.

Another hand found its way under her jeans and under her panties. Rey choked down her own moan as the others echoed from the other side of the wall, and she arched two fingers to stroke down and up, down and up, her lips warm and plump and hungry for the touch. She fondled her breast, stroking her hard, dark nipple with her thumb and she squeezed her ass tight, pressing up against her other fingers. She thought of Kelly's partner fucking her, sliding his thick cock between her own thighs, in and out, in and out, her wetness coating his shaft, and then he'd fuck her even harder, so hard that their hips would crash together and her head would hit the wall from the force.

" _Oh, sorry—_ " came a sharp and urgent whisper.

" _Don't stop_ ," she moaned.

Rey rubbed faster and flexed her ass tighter. Her nipple was sore and she screwed it harder. Her legs began to tingle and she felt herself climbing toward climax, but _no, not yet, too soon_ , so she let off a bit, just a bit to tease herself, and she chewed on her bottom lip to keep from moaning and tried to withhold that orgasm just a bit more, but _fuck_ , it was just so hard to resist. The neighboring thrusting and grunting grew frenetic and—

" _I'm gonna come,_ " she gasped. " _Hard, hard, fuck me harder!_ "

A loud noise hit the wall. He was bracing himself, his other hand gripping her hair. She raked her fingers on his chest.

Rey quickened her pace, her pulse pounding as he pounded Kelly, and her wrist was cramping but she didn't want to stop and she climbed and climbed and then it came, she came, so did he and she, and Rey dived from the peak into a warm, comforting pool of delicious feelings and bodily aftershocks. She rolled to her side to bury her face in her pillow, still whipping her fingers away at her cunt, smothering her panting and groaning, and her body twitched and the waves of pure ecstasy washed from head to toe and she didn't stop rubbing until her fingers cramped and she grew limp and gasped to catch her breath.

" _That.. was incredible_ ," Kelly gasped.

###

A slamming cabinet woke Rey. Her room was full of daylight and her head was fuzzy.

"No more IPAs," she grunted at the beer bottles on her night stand. She rolled out of bed and grabbed her jeans that had fallen to the floor during the night and pulled them on then twisted her hair into a sloppy bun. She went out into the kitchen where a mess of the prior night's dinner rested in cold, soapy water in the sink and Kelly and her new beau were laughing over coffee at the dining room table.

"—and that's how we met. I still think it's funny how she was so nervous to tell me her name the first time!" Kelly was finishing a story, her hands wrapped around a steaming mug.

"'Morning," Rey harrumphed. She was not a morning person. She beelined for the mug caddy and poured herself a cup of coffee.

"Is this the infamous Rey I've heard so much about?" a sonorous voice inquired.

Rey squinted to focus on the man sitting at the table and nearly dropped the coffee pitcher. Sitting across from Kelly and only a few feet away from Rey was an averagely handsome, thickly-built, tall, redhead and Rey recognized him immediately.

Dom.

A glimmer of faint recognition flittered across his freckly face. He quirked his head to the side and his fiery curls jostled. He looked at Rey intently for a moment, reaching far into vague memories, grasping for some reason why Rey looked so familiar.

Rey smiled politely and poured herself some coffee. She dropped her other hand out of sight and concentrated briefly, wafting her fingers in the air. For a split second, she received a train of his memories that whooshed by her third eye, and with a quick push of the force, she muddied them.

"This is she," Kelly smiled.

Rey filled her mug to the brim. "I am she." She mirrored Kelly's smile but she was shaking inside.

"Funny," Dom murmured. "I swear, you look so familiar, but I can't put my finger on it!"

"Hmm," Rey chuckled, sipping her coffee. She wanted to fling the hot mug at the stupid ginger's face but resisted. "Well, pardon me, but I need to get ready for work."

"Nice to meet you, Rey," Dom said with a nod of his head. His face didn't have any of that surly childishness that he had once before, so many years ago.

"Nice to meet you, too, Dom," Rey lied.

Kelly let out a surprised laugh and cast a wary glance at Dom. "Rey, how'd you know his name?!"

Rey froze for a moment. Dom looked at her again, and she could sense he was trying to scrub the film from those memories she had quickly tried to dirty.

"Oh, well, er," Rey babbled. "I, uh, I didn't want to say anything but—" She looked around dramatically to make sure the sisters couldn't hear her. "I could kinda hear you screaming his name last night, Kelly."

"Oh!" Kelly turned as pink as her mug. "I'm sorry about that, Rey!" She exchanged a chuckle with Dom. "Maybe I should move my bed to the other side of the room."

"Oh, no," Rey said, almost too quickly. "I mean, those walls are so thin, it doesn't matter. I'll just find some ear plugs. You just give me a head's up when you're having company." Rey flashed another convincing smile at her friend and excused herself to go shower.

She resisted slamming the door shut and cranked the heat in the shower until it was almost scalding. The hot water pounded her back and she squeezed her eyes tightly as the memories from childhood came flooding back. That snarky, asshole, redheaded little asshole kid laughed and pointed and mocked her and now he was fucking her best friend. It wasn't until Rey opened her eyes that she suddenly realized she was plunged into darkness, the sound of the broken light bulbs crashing on the counter.


	14. Chapter 13 - The Propaganda

_Six months ago_

The cell phone message tone chirped urgently as a series of single-line texts flooded his phone. He swiped a finger, unlocking the screen. An unknown number headlined the messaging app.

 _Sighting spotted in SoCal._

 _Video posted on Reddit._

 _You know what to do_.

Little dots danced across the screen as the sender tapped away and then a hyperlink popped up.

 _Fuel the fire_.

Janyor pressed the link and a video popped up. His phone's speakers were tinny and crackly, and he could barely understand the audio but could definitely glean the context. He watched, delighted, as a restaurant scene unfolded, with clattering dishes, gasping patrons, and the pin-dropping silence that followed when the young woman filled the frame, arms outstretched. He almost squealed at the sight of the levitating coffee mugs.

"Jedi," Janyor whispered, almost reverently. "No. Way." A rare smile crinkled the corners of his eyes as he rushed to his computer. He tethered his phone to one of the bulky computer towers and excitedly texted while the video transferred.

 _\- This is fantastic. Where'd you get this?_

 _A little birdie._

 _\- Who are you? How'd you get this number?_

 _I go by Kylo Ren. The little birdie provided it to me. We both thought you'd be interested._

 _\- I am. Tell your birdie to keep bringing these to me._

Janyor swiveled his chair to another monitor and keyboard. He punched in a search for "Kylo Ren" and a few scant pages of results appeared. It was what Janyor suspected, just a typical and predictable presence on major news aggregate and social media sites. He clicked around on some, finding this Kylo person active on some of the more controversial forums, ideas promoting nationalism, anti-immigration, anti-alternate lifestyles like Jediism, and the like. There was a smattering of pro-border control, climate change hoaxes, and other usual tropes associated with people like Kylo, but nothing revealing as to who really is this Kylo.

Janyor gave up after a short while, deciding it didn't really matter the identity behind the computer warrior and patriot. "As long as he keeps these juicy bits coming," he murmured to himself, "he could be a puppy-kicker for all I care."

His other computer _dinged_ as it completed the upload and he opened up his media editing software, which immediately froze. "What the fuck?" he grumbled, slamming his mouse on the desk. "Open up!" The screen did not obey.

His cell phone rang, an angry and persistent tone, and no number showed on screen. No one ever called Janyor. No one with common sense, anyway. Warily, he grabbed up and hit the speakerphone but didn't say a word. Someone could be recording him on the other end, for all he knew. At least he had the camera covered.

"Janyor." The person on the other end sounded male, and it was deep, raspy, and almost metallic. "I cannot emphasize the importance of making this video go viral. You saw it for yourself. It is proof evident of what you've wanted to show for so long."

Janyor swallowed to find his own voice. "Is this Kylo?"

The man chuckled, robotically. Janyor wondered if the caller was using a vocal modulation program. "As long as you are careful with the source of your information, I will keep feeding it to you." He paused. "But do me wrong, or misrepresent our shared agenda, and I promise you will see the extent of my wrath."

Janyor rolled his eyes. He was used to this, these self-professed patriots who think they're the sole source of any halfway decent information to help the crusades, but like mushrooms springing after a rain, six new sources always pop up to replace a single one. There was never a lack of truth seekers.

"Don't fool yourself," Kylo warned, as if he read Janyor's thoughts. "Don't think you can get this from anywhere else."

"Sure, sure, I get it," Janyor agreed. "So, how do I get a hold of you when I need something more?"

Kylo chuckled. " _I_ will get a hold of _you_." The line went dead and his computer unfroze.

Janyor stared at the phone then at his computer and back at the phone. "Weird," he murmured to himself. He had no time to dwell on the strange conversation, however; there was work that needed to be done.

###

Dalraga's beady eyes scanned the print out, scrutinizing each word. Janyor watched, eagerly, and awaited Dalraga's blessing.

"This should do," Dalraga finally said.

Janyor tried to not feel deflated. After all, this video would probably end up being one of their most-viewed videos and that's all he had to say?

"Patriot76, good, nice subtle moniker," Dalraga murmured, nodding in approval. "Keeping it real, honest." He hummed and harrumphed as he skimmed through again. "Let's get this going, then. Pull up the video." Dalraga liked to review his scripts before watching the videos they'd accompany. His initial reaction to any video would be more organic, he had said. Genuine. He could channel his persona better that way. He scooted his chair closer to the center of Janyor's desk.

"Now, I'm warning you—" Janyor started.

Dalraga held up a hand. "Ah, ah, ah, let the video speak for itself."

Janyor clicked and the video blew up to screen-size. He watched Dalraga for a reaction but he only watched, from beginning to end, in unblinking silence.

"Again," Dalraga commanded. Janyor restarted the video and it played again, tiny mirrored images of the screen reflecting off of Dalraga's coal-colored eyes.

"Slow it down, seventy-five percent," Dalraga said. "I'll tell you when."

The video restarted and played at a snail's pace. The reactions of the patrons were slow-motion horror and shock; it was almost comedic how mouths gawked open and eyes widened. The slender girl in the focus of the video was the only one who seemed to move quickly, despite the slow playback.

"Stop!"

Janyor froze the video and stared at it, wondering what it was that Dalraga saw.

"There – you see it?" Dalraga stabbed a chubby finger toward the corner of the video frame. "The mirror. Can you zoom in?"

Janyor squinted at the screen and drew a boundary around the area Dalraga was fixated on. He pulled out the still and zoomed in on it, running a few commands in an attempt to sharpen the image.

"Right there!" Dalraga exclaimed, tapping the screen. "It's _them_."

Then, Janyor saw it, plain as day. In one of the decorative mirrors on the restaurant wall, there were two faces captured in its polished face. Two faces that were turned and watching the scene unfold, but with little reaction compared to everyone else. The woman's profile was blurry, with a crooked half-smile, but her features were undeniable.

"It's the wonder twins," Janyor gasped. "They were there."

Dalraga laughed, joyfully. "Luke and Leia Skywalker, we've found you!"


	15. Chapter 14 - The Climax

_Present day_

Rey's stomach twisted and flip-flopped as the anxiety coursed through her system. The group was on their way back to Pasadena in their small caravan of vehicles and every mile that brought them closer amplified her panic.

She tried to fix her attention on the scenery that whipped past the window: scrubby brush and trees, the lazy arms of the wind turbines churning the hot California air, the beautiful, craggy mountains to the far north that were just slightly dusted with snow, but nothing could distract her from the thoughts of _him_.

The brush was his prickly fingers, sliding up her arms and leaving bloody trails in their wake. The towering wind turbines reminded her of his ostentatious office building, looming in the dark with its single, blinking red eye. The mountains made her think of him, immobile and mighty, dwarfing her, shadowing her, capturing her in his gloom. Nothing could make her not think of him.

The traffic crawled to a standstill once they were outside Pasadena and Rey sighed in relief. This would further delay the inevitable.

"How you doing, kiddo?" Leia asked.

Rey shrugged. She was afraid to open her mouth because she was certain she'd vomit.

"You got this, you hear me?" Leia said, sternly. "You've faced him before. You know what to expect."

"No," Rey manage to murmur. "I thought I did. And look what happened. He's going to get to me."

"Well, of course he will, with that attitude," Leia scoffed. "When Luke walked through your memories, you felt it, right? You could sense how Ben worked. You know how to detect it now. You can fight him if he pulls any more of his cheap tricks."

Rey closed her eyes, summoning up the memory. Leia was right. There was something different about the way Ben got into her mind, the secret paths and hidden doors he unlocked. There was a special feeling about how he manipulated them. Surely, this next time around, she'd be able to sense it and stop it. Maybe.

Leia took the silence for an acknowledgment of sorts. "So, have you heard from him yet?"

Rey glanced down at the burner phone in her hands. "No, not yet. I assume he'll want to meet me at his office, again."

Leia's mouth tightened into a thin line. She didn't like the idea any better than Rey did, going back to that building. It's like enticing the mouse back to the trap, even after it snapped once before. But what choice did Rey have? She had to get to the cheese.

The sudden ringing of the phone startled Rey so much, she dropped it on the floor and Chuy almost side-swiped another car in reaction to her panic. He warbled in annoyance.

"It's him," Rey whispered, not touching the phone as if it would bite.

"Answer it!" Leia urged.

"But what if he tracks me?"

"Of course, he's going to try, but we're gridlocked in traffic. What's he going to do? Hover over us in a helicopter and rappel down?" The phone continued to ring, angry. "Pick it up, dammit!"

Rey grabbed the phone and slid her finger across the screen. "H-hello?" She cringed at how shaky her voice sounded.

"Ms. Jacks." His voice was pure silk and it filled her ear and her thoughts. She instantly shivered though there was a warmth that coiled in the pit of her stomach. She hated how he had this effect on her. "I've read the documentation you provided. I'm ready to discuss this with you."

"I-I'm pleased. Pleased to hear that," she responded. Her eyes were locked on Leia's, and she was unharnessed with her emotions. Leia was getting absolutely smacked with a flurry of intense feelings that Rey was trying to desperately rein in.

"Good. I'd like to meet you tonight. I want to discuss this proposal."

"I don't want to go to your office," Rey blurted before he could even finish.

He exhaled a breathy chuckle. "Of course. We'll need to be somewhere public. I've made a reservation for us at 71Above. 7pm."

"I'll see you there."

 _Click_. Rey clutched the phone in both hands and sat in silence.

"Well," Leia finally said. "It looks like you have a date."

###

Rey glared at the mirror and an unfamiliar face glared back. She watched Leia's hands behind her, working to style her hair. Leia insisted on unraveling Rey's buns and ironing her hair out so that Rey would appear, according to Leia, more "feminine" and "womanly." Rey insisted that by trying to appeal to Ben's sexuality was insulting to herself and pandering to him at best, and Leia just smiled and shrugged.

Rey wore a black midi dress that came to her knees. The black cap sleeves were modest and covered her shoulders but the neckline plunged just enough to hint at her cleavage. A simple but elegant silver chain carried a jagged and polished pendant that looked like a piece of a nebula was captured within it. The matching black heels were strapped too snug on her stockinged feet, but at least she knew she wouldn't ankle roll out of them.

Leia also insisted on doing Rey's makeup. Rey preferred little to no makeup, only dolling up when she really needed to. Apparently, tonight was a reason to do so, and Leia brought out her fancy cosmetics and went to town on Rey's face, transforming her into a mature vixen. The smoky-eyed, rouge-cheeked, dark-lipped Rey scowled but she secretly admitted that she did look pretty hot.

"Careful, don't move," Leia warned as she pulled away the scorching hot hair iron. "Almost done."

Luke peeked his head in the bathroom. "Hey, you really clean up. I can hardly recognize you, ragamuffin."

"Thanks," Rey said, sarcastically. "I can only imagine what a little makeup would do for you. And a razor."

Luke scratched at his beard. "I thought women like this scruffy look. Doesn't it make me look intelligent? Distinguished?"

"No!" came the immediate answer from both his sister and Rey.

Luke pretended to ignore them and glanced at his watch. "Hurry it up. I need to debrief Rey before we go."

"We?" Rey echoed.

"Of course," Leia said, spritzing Rey's hair with a setting spray. "You think we're going to let you just go somewhere and meet him alone?"

"It's somewhere public," Rey argued, suddenly feeling embarrassed like she was a child getting chaperoned on a date. _It's not a date!_ she silently reminded herself.

"Doesn't matter," Leia said. "Besides, he'll have his people there, too." She stepped back and made an assessment. She spritzed a bit more of spray and admired her work. "Good. You're done. Go talk to Luke and Chuy will warm up your car." She shook out the black wrap that was hanging off of the back of the bathroom door and handed it to Rey.

Rey accepted the soft cloth, folded it over her arm, and carefully tottered away on the stilettos that Leia also insisted that she wear. She wasn't using to shoes this tall, but she at least she'd be closer to Ben's height.

She found Luke in the living room. He was watching the news on mute, but neither of them needed the audio to understand what atrocities were going on. The worried newscaster's face was positioned parallel to another square on screen which displayed a video of chaos. It was somewhere in the Middle East, some distant country Rey still wouldn't be able to pinpoint exactly on the map, but she didn't need to know where it was to know something was wrong. There were fires and explosions, sobbing people, a lone child. Blood, mud, a shaky video capture of a drone.

She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. "Jesus," she murmured as she felt a quiet flood of emotions lapping at the back of her mind _. Suffering, so much suffering_. She could sense the loss of people, some of her people, their souls crying out in anguish as they died. When she opened her eyes, they were brimming with tears.

"That," Luke said, quietly. "That is what we're fighting for. What you fight for."

Rey fluttered her eyes as she tried to force the tears back inside. She didn't want to ruin Leia's meticulous makeup job. "Gee, not like the pressure is on or anything." She didn't intend to make it a joke. There was nothing funny about this and nothing funny about the departing emotive souls that were skating across her mind. _There's so many_ …

Luke patted the cushion next to him. "Come. Sit." Rey obeyed and sat on the other side of the couch furthest from him. The earlier encounter with Luke into her mind was still fresh and awkward, and she wanted to keep her distance in case he tried any of his woo-woo mind tricks again.

"When my sister and I learned about the truth of our father, it was shocking. To know that we were part of this monstrous corporation that did stuff like _this._ " He gestured at the TV. "We felt complicit, even though we didn't really know what was happening. Though, our ignorance wasn't an excuse. We knew that terrible things were happening in a distant place across the world and never had the consideration to put two and two together." He paused. "It's hard to see what's happening down below from so high in one's ivory tower."

"You can't blame yourself," Rey said. "Children trust in their parents to do the right thing." She tried to ignore the pang of jealousy that came unbidden. At least Luke had a father to know.

Luke nodded toward the TV, where a horrifying segment featured a woman clad in sand-beaten clothes clutched the body of a limp baby in her arms. The child's limbs dangled and swung stiffly as the mother open-mouthed wailed. "This is what my family's legacy will be."

"Not if I can help it," Rey said, smoothing down the front of her dress. She glanced at the fragile silver watch on her wrist. "I better get going so I'm not late for my _date_."

"Remember what you've learned," Luke called after her as she walked out the front door to her car. It was already running and Chuy was waiting in his SUV parked next to her in the driveway. Another car was warming up, presumably for Luke and Leia.

The door chimed as Rey opened it and she slid into the warm BMW, the heated seats welcome against her near-naked self. The night was chilly; winter was creeping in. She was grateful for luxuriousness sometimes. She pulled the door and it sealed her in, dampening the outside noises. It was just her, the purring of the engine, and some awful pop music quietly playing over the radio.

"Chuy," she huffed, annoyed he changed her presets. She skimmed through radio stations until something heavy, loud, and growly came on. "Perfect." She was invigorated by the angry music and thrust the car into reverse. She peeled out of the driveway, startling Chuy who had been distracted playing a game on his cell phone, and he hurried to follow her.

Rey whizzed through the streets, jumping onto the freeway and screaming into traffic. It was only moderately busy on the roads and like was wont of people who drive BMWs, she zipped her way in and out of lanes without even using her blinker. She giggled as she glimpsed Chuy frantically trying to keep up with her, which only egged her on more.

The music pounded, vibrating the speakers, and she quickly downshifted when the car in front of her lazily hit its breaks. Jerking the wheels, she narrowly squeezed in front of a big rig, which honked angrily and flashed its lights. She didn't care. The last couple days had been a trip. Hell, the last few months had been something out of a movie. She floored the gas a bit more, kicked it up a gear, and shot ahead like a fired gun.

She wanted to keep going, keep driving down the snaking asphalt arteries that covered the state. If she kept going, she'd eventually chase the sunrise, find herself somewhere off Highway 1, overlooking some rocky beach and watch the pink and orange creep up over the crashing waves. But she couldn't do that. She had a duty. And before she knew it, she was pulling up to valet at the massive tower and finding the express elevator to the top.

The elevator was quick. She wasn't sure if it was the speed of the car or the nervousness that made her feel dizzy. In a few seconds, she'd be in his presence. He'd be there, looking down at her with those dark eyes, reaching for her, penetrating h—

 _Ding!_

The doors slid open and her feet found their way to the hostess stand. A youngish woman, with an asymmetric candy apple red haircut, briefly looked Rey up and down. "You must be Ms. Jacks. Please, follow me." She sauntered toward the dining room, not even looking to see if Rey was following her. Rey nervously trailed her like a puppy, trying not to stare much at the stunning surroundings.

The restaurant was huge, with giant floor-to-ceiling windows glimpsing the entirety of Los Angeles, Santa Monica, and Hollywood in their breadth. It was noisy with the packed dining tables, the clinking of silverware, the music from some unseen jazz quartet. The ceiling was disorienting but beautiful, with its honeycomb-style coffering and massive brass décor of prisms and bars arranged in eccentric shapes. Rey had never seen such an artful space, in a restaurant no less.

The path the hostess took lead them to a frosted glass door of a private dining room. "Enjoy," she said without a smile, and closed the door as soon as Rey entered. She had to keep from gasping. There was an immediate response from her body and she suddenly tingled.

Ben was standing at the window, looking down at the twinkling city. He was uncharacteristically fashionable and wasn't clad in dark and gloomy clothes. He wore a pair of soft grey boat shoes and tailored charcoal trousers that were rolled up just a bit at the ankle so a peek of bare skin showed. He had on a simple, tight white shirt and a blue twill blazer over it with the sleeves pushed up, so she could see the tautness of his sculpted forearms. His hair, like usual, was brushed back and messy, but he pulled it off so effortlessly. This was the heir to a massive and controversial empire that engaged in some of the worst atrocities known to mankind? He looked like he just stepped off the cover of _Esquire_ and was about to go to the clubhouse with the boys.

"Ms. Jacks," he said softly, not moving. He saw her, blurred and still, in the reflection of the window.

"Mr. Solo," she said, gripping her beaded black clutch for dear life.

He turned to face her and she could feel his eyes scan all over her, ever so quickly. "Please. Have a seat." He gestured at the dining table, which was meant for a dozen people but had place settings for only two: one at the head of the table, and one at its left. She immediately heated for the latter, knowing full well where he would be positioned.

In a couple of strides, he was behind her, chivalrously pulling the chair out for her. She sat, obedient, and he pushed her in toward the table. He unraveled her wrap from her shoulders and took her clutch, depositing them on the chair across from her so they were out of her reach. A waiter, whom she hadn't even noticed was there, snapped her napkin out and laid it over her lap then filled her water glass.

"Thank you," she said, quietly.

"Miss, would you care to look at the wine menu or are you pleased with what sir has ordered tonight?" A wine bottle, still sealed, sat on the table between them. Its label was fancy and French and it looked expensive.

"I'll trust his selection," she replied.

The waiter picked up the bottle, presented it to both Ben and Rey, and Rey nodded and hmmed like she knew what she was doing. In her training with HOTH, she learned a little bit about many things, but she never could figure out the etiquette and intricacies of wine.

The waiter sliced the foil, popped the cork, and poured the first taste for Ben, who sniffed it, sipped it, and gave his approval. The glasses were poured and the waiter disappeared; Rey presumed he had another table to creep over.

Rey reached for her glass and he watched as she sipped it, waiting for her reaction.

"It's good," she said after she swallowed a dainty sip. She was going to need more than a glass to calm her nerves.

A quick half-smile tickled the corner of his mouth. "Good. It's one of my favorites. It's a Bordeaux - _Chateau Latour Pauillac._ 2006\. It's an incredible vintage, highly unusual for its ilk, as it was almost ruined that year, on account of the unseasonal amount of rain in September. That's usually when they start picking grapes for the wine, but it didn't stop for nearly the entire month." He sipped his wine and sighed, admiring the taste. "Not many were willing to pay the price for a 2006 Bordeaux as they did in previous years, because some people simply can't enjoy the strong tannins. I think this was one of their best years."

Rey just thought it was a strong-tasting, good wine. "I didn't realize you were such an.. _aficionado_." She hoped she pronounced the word correctly. She took another sip and made an appreciative noise.

He leaned in close to her, his eyes serious and glimmering. "I am an aficionado of many a thing, it would surprise you." He snaked a hand between their wine glasses and tentatively wrapped his long fingers around her hand she had gripping the stem of her glass. "There is so much I could show you, so many amazing places and experiences and sights. Have you ever been to France?"

Rey opened her mouth a bit, unsure how to answer, and mercifully, they both heard the door open. Ben pushed back, annoyed a bit at the interruption, and the waiter arrived with a small tray. He placed a basket of warmed artisan breads and butters on the table and then two small, flat-bottomed ceramic soup spoons.

"Samples from the chef," he said, proudly. "Roasted cauliflower soup with toasted turmeric and coconut." He placed a spoon in front of each and waited patiently. Rey followed Ben's lead and drank the soup. It was flavorful and warm and in Rey's mind, probably the most amazing preparation of an oft-hated vegetable.

"Delicious," Ben declared.

"Wonderful," the waiter said. "Would sir prefer to have that substituted in his soup course?"

"We will have both."

"Of course." The waiter nodded and scurried off, again.

Rey assumed by now that they were being watched. Surely, Leia, Luke, and Chuy were sitting in the restaurant. Maybe Finn, too. And there was no doubt in her mind that Ben had some of his own people there. Maybe the waiter was one of his hired goons, for all she knew. Maybe that soup was drugged. Maybe that tasty morsel of cauliflower soup came with a hint of ketamine.

"You know, it isn't good for the body," Ben warned, sniffing at his wine and taking another sip.

"What is?" she asked.

"Worrying."

"I'm not worrying about a thing," she said coolly.

He laughed into his glass, his breath fogging it up momentarily. Rey realized she liked it very much when he smiled, with his lips pulling back to reveal his perfect teeth, the pink of his tongue probing his lip. She immediately wondered how that tongue would feel, hot and wet, as it licked and explored down on her-

 _Stop it_ , she warned herself, but it felt like the voice wasn't entirely hers. She had to be careful. She had to not let her inhibitions loosen, not let the wine get to her head, and more importantly, not allow Ben to get into her head. But the wine was incredible, the company was enticing, and the waiter just arrived with their soup course.

"Here is the lobster bisque, topped with a scallop and beet foam," the waiter announced, placing bowls in front of them. "And, per request, the roasted cauliflower."

"Thank you," Rey said, politely. Ben harrumphed a sound that resembled an appreciative acknowledgement. The waiter topped off their wine glasses and disappeared.

After taking the first taste of her lobster bisque, Rey was grateful that the bowls were shallow. The bisque was rich and creamy. Even after all these months, Rey still had trouble adjusting to the luxuriousness of a comfortable life. They ate in silence for a few minutes, only hearing the muffled din of the restaurant outside of the room and the hard patter of rain on the windows.

Rey spooned the last of her cauliflower soup. "So, you've reviewed the documents?"

Ben shrugged, noncommittedly. "Perhaps."

Rey frowned. "Perhaps?" she repeated. She rested her spoon in her bowl and leaned back in her chair, displeased.

He reached under his chair and produced the binder that Rey had given him only a couple days prior. A multitude of sticky notes and tabs decorated it. He had clearly gone through it.

"Perhaps," he affirmed.

Rey didn't like where this was going. He was testing her patience. He was testing her. She finished her glass and held it out for him to refill. He obliged, with an amused smirk.

She took another hearty sip. The alcohol, on a nearly empty stomach, was making her brave. As soon as the words began to tumble out of her mouth, she regretted them.

"I'm surprised you had the time to go through it so methodically," she began, "considering you followed me home the other night and broke into my apartment." _There_. She said it. She sipped at her glass nonchalantly as she could so that she had something to do instead of sit there and tremble.

His face darkened. "What?" his voice was barely imperceptible, just a touch above a whisper.

She paused, but did not put her glass down. She wanted some barrier to hide behind. "You know what I'm talking about." She tilted the glass to drink, again, but his hand reached out quickly and encircled her wrist. It was not painful, but it was firm and he guided her hand down. She licked her lips nervously, wondering if the wine was already staining her lipstick.

"What are you talking about?" he said, seriously and concerned.

"After I met you at your office the other day," she said, as if that was all that needed to be told. "Are you forgetting?"

He shook his head. "No. That wasn't me. Or any of mine."

"Really?" she snapped, the bravery rising with her blood pressure. "You're telling me that it was a complete and total coincidence that the first night we meet – _I!_ a representative of your most hated enemy – was not followed after you did your damn mind tricks on me for the better part of an hour and it wasn't you that found my apartment and broke in and chased me out and—"

"Rey." He touched her again, but his grip was gentler, timid. He immediately began to flood her emotions with his memories.

She gasped and lost her grip on her glass. The goblet clunked once against the white tablecloth, cracking at the stem, and the wine spilled, coloring the cloth red.

 _Their reflections in the office window._

 _His hands on her back._

 _Her face reaching his, their lips meeting._

 _A fiery explosion in his chest._

 _Rey coolly smoothing out her skirt._

 _Rey's back as she strides away. Rejection._

 _Something broken, shattered, an angry reflection._

 _Pages of documents, bleeding with highlighters and pen marks._

 _Sleepless night._

 _A sense of yearning._

As quick as the memories came, they were gone. He released her wrist and she pushed back in her seat, panting and gasping for breath. The damned waiter reappeared, and bringing another wine glass and a cloth to blot up the mess. When he had left, Rey glared at Ben.

"How do I know that you didn't fabricate those thoughts?" she accused.

The pang of hurt that crossed his face almost made her heart ache in return. He genuinely was taken aback by such an allegation.

"Rey, I would never do that," Ben said. "You think I'm that loathsome?"

"I don't know. No. Maybe." Rey's cheeks reddened to the color of the wine. "I'm sorry. It's just that.. it's very hard to trust you right now. Or anyone. This is a difficult situation. I feel the balance of our organizations is resting on the two of us. And that is a tremendous burden to carry."

Ben filled Rey's new glass and topped off his own. "Did you call the police?"

Rey was confused. "What? After we met? Wouldn't that be strange, ' _Hello, officer, I think my mind was diddled by a Jedi_ —"

"No," he interrupted, sharply. "After your apartment was broken into."

"Oh." She shook her head. "Not exactly. After I was chased out, I sort of ran into the cops. Well, into a police car. So in a way, the police were involved."

"Did they find the perp? Did they arrest anyone?"

"No." Her mind darted to the business card from Officer Dameron and the symbol he had drawn; she only dwelled on it for a nanosecond and clouded the memory in case Ben was probing. "It's probably too soon. It's been only two nights. Besides, I think the LAPD has more to worry about than a prowler." She neglected to mention she hadn't even returned to her apartment, but it was probably good to not reveal her locations for her own safety.

Ben frowned, displeased at this information. "This isn't good." His brow furrowed and he seemed to be distracted in thought by something more pressing than the whole purpose of this evening meeting.

Rey watched him, wary. "Ben?"

He snapped back to attention and his gaze cleared, though Rey could see he was still a bit troubled by something. "Ah, the next course is here."

They ate their steak tartare in subdued quietness, only making superficial comments on its tastiness or agreeing for another bottle of wine to be ordered. Rey worried about driving but figured if she had too much, Luke or Leia would drive her back in her BMW. She wondered where they were and reached out with her mind, but the restaurant was very full of busy minds and she was started to get a bit too inebriated. Besides, it was rather difficult to prod for Luke's mind of all people.

By the time the main course arrived, they had still not addressed the elephant in the room. Rey's mind was fuzzing, and so was her guard.

"So, Mister I-don't-stalk-women-I'm-attracted-to, when are you going to discuss what we have in our binder?"

He smiled, coolly and calmly. He had to have had more than twice the amount of alcohol that Rey had, but he was acting as if he were sober.

"Would you tell me a bit about yourself, Rey." It was a command, not a question.

She pushed a spear of asparagus around her plate, caught off-guard by such a question and wondering what was the point. "There isn't much to tell."

He chuckled, graciously. "There has to be more to the story about a little waitress who has catapulted to success and is now a powerful presence in one of the largest environmental lobbyist groups in the world."

Her cheeks were warm. _Is it the wine?_ she wondered. But she wouldn't look up at him. "I wouldn't say success," she muttered. "More like luck."

"How do you mean?"

"At the right place at the right time."

"I see."

She carved off the tip of her asparagus and munched it, thoughtfully. "I suppose you've always been in the right place."

His eyes darkened. This was going into territory he did not appreciate. "What are you implying by that?"

She mowed a potato through a puddle of buttery sauce. "I think you know."

He laid his hand on her arm. "Stop playing with your food. What do you mean by that?"

She looked up at him, her eyes clouded and angry. Ben tried to tease out what she was feeling but was met with a firm and stony wall. He retreated, his mental tail tucked between his legs, and she softened a bit at his acquiescence.

"I meant that you've always had it," she said. "You've had what you've needed. What you've wanted. You're born into _this—"_ she twirled her hands about "—kind of lifestyle. You don't know what it's like to be broke. Starving. Homeless. Do you?" Her eyes darkened again, full of accusation.

"No," he admitted. "I have not been any of those things, in the literal sense. But I know what it's like to be broken in spirit. Starving for knowledge. Homeless in the heart." He frowned, realizing that he had struck a very sensitive nerve with Rey. "My apologies. I didn't mean to offend."

"It's okay," she whispered, fixing her gaze at the table. For the second time in the night, she felt the hotness of tears burning on her eyes. _Dammit_! She hated when she did this; she couldn't control it and she didn't like to appear weak. She wasn't sad; she was angry.

An errant, damned tear broke through the barrier of her thickly mascaraed eyelashes and trickled down. Ben reached out, catching it on the edge of his finger and tenderly wiped it away.

"It wasn't my intent to anger you," he said, genuinely apologetic.

"You didn't." She blinked furiously and took another sip of wine. "I'm upset, not angry."

"Tell me the difference."

Rey pushed her plate aside, cleaned off and only a smear of gravy remaining. She did not seem to have an answer.

A ghost of a smile played on his lips. "If you're still hungry, we can order more."

"I'm absolutely stuffed," she said. "But when you grow up poor, you learn to never waste food." She daintily patted the napkin at her lips.

"Hmm," he harrumphed, thoughtfully. He immediately scooped up some food on his fork and popped it in his mouth. "So? Angry? Upset?"

Rey pondered his question. "Being upset is the immediate, knee-jerk reaction to something. I get upset if I get a parking ticket and I was only two minutes late to filling up my meter. I'm upset when I'm on my period and my roommates eat my cookies and cream Haagen Daaz. I get upset if I get a hole in a pair of my jeans. Soccer moms at Starbucks get upset if the barista gives them 2% instead of non-fat." She paused, reflecting on her soul-sucking days of working in a restaurant. "Like they can even tell with all of the insane amounts of syrup they put in those drinks." She scowled and poured herself some more wine.

"And anger?" he prompted.

She swirled her wine, watching as it streaked the insides of the glass. She tried to remember what Leia called them when she was giving her a formal dinner primer. _Legs? It was legs. Legs because they dance on the inside of the glass. You dance after having too much wine._

"Anger," Rey murmured. "It builds up over time. It festers, it grows, it takes root. It consumes and blinds you from reality. When anger is the only emotion, when it's left unchecked, it's catastrophic. It empowers you, in a bad way."

"It emboldens you," he interrupted. "It becomes you."

She glanced at him, but didn't say anything.

"It's a powerful emotion," he continued. "It's not a bad thing. It's demonstrative of your humanity, Rey. It is raw. It is untapped strength." He leaned in closer. "I can show you how to harness it. I can show you how to make it bend to your will and—"

"No," she hissed, leaning back in her chair. She shook her head. The world trembled a bit. _Fuck_. She was drunk.

"Rey, there should be no shame," he said, urgently. "Anger is just another emotion that is powerful, therefore it's exploitable. You take that anger and you control it, you can channel it. It's just one of many ways to take advantage of the force."

"I can do that in other ways," she muttered. "With emotions that aren't so destructive."

He smiled a knowing smile. His eyes scanned her again, and he chewed thoughtfully on his bottom lip. "Would you like to go dancing?"

"What?"

"Dancing. Let's get out of here."

Her mind swam. _Dancing?_ With Ben? The room was getting stuffy. And she was so full from dinner, so burning some energy sounded like the greatest idea in a while. She thought of the wine, the pulsing music of a club, the throbbing bass, the seizure-inducing lights.

"Yes," she said. "Yes, I would like to go dancing."

Ben threw his napkin on his now-empty plate and beamed. "Let's go."

"Right now?" Rey gaped, fumbling for an excuse. "But-but we haven't even had dessert yet."

"We'll get it to go," Ben said. He grabbed Rey's wrap and draped it over her shoulders and handed her the clutch. He tucked the binder under his arm.

"I-I don't know if I can drive," she said, fumbling with the snap. She couldn't even get it open, much less figure out how to get her keys out.

Ben tenderly covered her hands with his. "I have a chauffeur. You can get your car later." He nodded toward the waiter and slipped something in his hands. "Make sure her car doesn't get towed. 781THX11. A black BMW 4 series coupe." He started shrugging into his jacket. "Ah, and wrap our desserts to go. Quickly."

The waiter disappeared at lightning speed. Ben fumbled through some large bills and tossed them on the table.

Rey began to panic. _What if this is a trick? Wine me, dine me, get me out of a public area and to a private place where he can easily dispose of me? Or maybe ransom me to HOTH? Will they pay? How much would he ask? Oh, God, what if he'll want to do an exchange? Leia would volunteer, but I can't let her. I got to find a way out of this._

Rey snapped back to attention when Ben's hand alighted on the small of her back. It cast tingles down her spine and then he was guiding her out of the room.

The waiter handed Ben a bag and smiled widely and nervously as he back-pedaled out of his way. Another man was waiting, huge, stern, and with large sunglasses which was absurd in the dim restaurant. A coiled earpiece was clipped to his collar and he was holding the door.

"Oh—I—" Rey's eyes darted about as they entered the main dining area, scanning through the crowds. There were so many people, too many people, and the noise was disorienting. She was too drunk and the feeling of Ben's palm on her back made her surrender herself. She felt electrified to him and she couldn't command her own feet. And then, seemingly out of nowhere, another body guard appeared and flanked Rey on her other side.

As they weaved through the maze of the dining room, she saw another man. Slender, shaved head, and with a pair of black-rimmed glasses that she knew were actually a heads-up display; he was one of theirs. He was rising from a corner table as the small entourage was approaching and he stared at Rey, assessing to see if he should act. She shook her head, slightly, and crooked her hand up at her waist, flicking her fingers gently. A confused look crossed his face and he sat back down.

Ben's fingertips pressed deeper into her back. He knew what she did. He smiled down at her.

Then, at the back of her mind, a rapping. _Luke_. His presence bloomed and filled her head. She could tell he was angry.

 _Where are you going?_

 _I'll be fine._

 _Rey._

 _Luke. Stop. You need me to seal this. I will._

 _Rey!_

Now keener to Luke's invasive techniques, she walled him off and silenced his voice. The elevator yawned open, the body guards entered, Rey's heart pounded, and Ben gently nudged her in. He wrapped his arm around her waist, holding her close, and the doors slid shut.

###

A large, black SUV pulled up from valet once they stepped outside. One of the huge bodyguards took the keys from the attendant and got into the driver's seat. Ben opened a passenger door for Rey and she climbed in; he followed her. The other guard got in front and as soon as the doors closed, they took off with alarming speed.

It was still dreary out and the rain pattered heavily on the windows, but the silence inside of the car was deafening. The surly bodyguards were as huge as Chuy but were clean shaven and did not play any catchy bubblegum pop on the radio. She had never wished more than to listen to some Britney Spears at this very moment.

Rey's hands sweated and she rubbed her thumbs over the beads of her clutch to distract herself from the overwhelmingly awkwardness. She stared at the window, watching the world pass in a blurry, drunken haze. She wondered what Luke and Leia were doing. Did they send someone to follow? Are they worried? She couldn't feel them, but she was also building up her mental wall. She began to feel guilty.

Then, Ben's hand alighted on her knee, so gentle and soft, it was like a butterfly landing on a flower. She tensed and would not turn to look at him, but did not push him away. He took that as a signal it was fine and let his hand rest more heavily, spreading his fingers like tentacles.

Her breath hitched. His palm was warm. His fingers, long. Her thoughts strayed to dirty places, wondering what the tips of those fingers would feel like if they slid up her thigh, stroked her stockings, unclasped the garter belt from her panties, and—

"We're here."

Rey squinted through the rain-streaked window. "What's this place? It doesn't look like your office."

He chuckled graciously. "No, this is one of my properties."

 _One of_?

"I own quite a few properties," he continued. "Some are here, in southern California."

The passenger doors opened from the outside. Rey stepped out, accepting the outstretched hand of one of the body guards to steady herself. She needed it; her legs were a bit wobbly. She didn't even realize that he also had an umbrella opened and cordially held it above her.

Ben came around the car and casually looped his arm in hers, guiding her down the sidewalk, avoiding the big puddles.

As they approached the edifice, she realized when he meant "property," he didn't mean a home. He meant a night club.

"You own the Exchange?" she gaped.

"Not entirely," he glanced down at her, his mouth stern but his eyes showed that he was pleased with her reaction. "I'm a part-owner."

She couldn't think of anything to ask but, "Why?!"

He glanced at her with a peculiar look at his face. "Why not? I have my hobbies and my interests. It just so happens I'm rather fond of electronic dance music."

For some reason, this struck Rey as hysterical and she burst into giggles.

"Why's that so funny?"

"I'm just imaging you with a pair of glow sticks waiting for the bass to drop," she laughed. "Wub-wub-wub!"

He sighed and tried to look angry but the hint of a smile threatened the corner of his lips.

They reached the front of the line where the bouncer immediately recognized him. He put himself between the crowd and Ben, letting the couple slip in.

Rey was met with such loud and intense music, it was like being smacked in the face. She recoiled a bit, struggling to maintain her drunken walking with the heels, but Ben's grip around her tightened and he helped her keep her balance as they took the stairs to the second level.

The club was _huge_. Though, Rey was not much of a dancer, so she wasn't entirely sure if this was normal for a night club, but she was fairly certain most of them were not four stories tall with a giant stage and dance floor that held what must have been a hundred gyrating, sweating, dancing bodies. Some DJ was on stage behind an array of turn tables and computers, his movements appeared staggered and unearthly as the epileptic lights pulsed in rhythm with the robotic thrumming of the music.

Ben lead her to a private table where there was already a bottle of champagne chilling in an ice bucket. "Do you want a drink?" Ben's voice came to her not to her ears but her mind.

She whipped around and glared at him. He only smiled innocently, gesturing in the air and then to his ears.

 _It's so loud in here, it's easier this way_.

 _Careful, Solo. I still have my wits. I am drunk not as you thinks I am._

He only smirked.

Rey plopped down in the booth and the world spun just a little. Ben grabbed the bottle, popped the cork, and filled the two flutes.

She felt particularly ballsy and clinked his glass with hers. "To our respective companies," she started. "That we may find common ground."

They sipped their champagnes, his mouth tight-lipped and his eyes serious.

"—and that we don't destroy the whole goddamned planet," she continued with a sweet grin, before chugging down the rest of her drink.

The bubbles rushed straight to her head and she clunked the glass on the table, glaring at Ben in disbelief. "Are you – are you _still_ sober? I mean, I've been pretty, I'm pretty, pretty good at matching you drink for drink. And lookit you, Mister Stoic, Mister Solemn-Face, Mister I'm-Too-Good, you're sitting there, stone cold. How are you not even drunk? You're not even buzzed?" For some reason, this grievously insulted her.

He sipped at his glass, his face emotionless and void. He sipped until it was empty, then stood up with a hand extended. "I want to dance."

"I thought you'd never ask," she said, coyly.

Ben lead her to the dance floor, where a crowd of people moved and undulated in unison, like some neon, glow stick-colored, sparkling organism. The music thumped heavily from massive speakers and beams of lights and lasers burst in every direction in rhythm with the sounds the energetic DJ was creating.

Ben used the Force to gently persuade people to part from them, and he carefully snaked a path through the crowd, dodging the overzealous shape cutters and shufflers who were a little too into the music, until they were in the middle. He relaxed his influence a bit, and the dancers unconsciously shifted closer, with just enough distance that they wouldn't bump up against Rey. He had created a buffer around her.

Rey realized that she had never really gone intentionally dancing with a guy before. All her times out were with her few girl friends clubbing, mostly with Kelly, and the guys she mostly encountered were fumbling, drunken frat boys and she'd often be dodging their attempts at feeling her up or trying not to spill her drink.

But Ben.. maybe it was the alcohol, stupefying her senses. But there was something so _right_ about him in this very moment. The prickles of sweat beading on his forehead. His eyes, half-lidded and dark, gazing down at her. His forearms flexing and relaxing, tightening those delicious muscles, _goddamn,_ Rey loved a man's arms. Even the way he danced was intoxicating. It was hard to not look like a seizing fool when dancing to electronic music, but he danced and did it well.

Something was awakening in Rey. She felt a call to something primal and dark. And as the music quickened and the drumming pounded, and she thrust herself toward him, pressing her hot, heaving, hungry body into his, and he did not stumble or pause but took to her as it was the most natural and organic thing to do. He responded in kind, crushing his torso to her back, cradling her ass with his pelvis, and stretching his fingers possessively around her ribs just centimeters below her breasts. His grip seemed to encircle her entirely. His hands were so big. She felt so small.

The music thumped, pulsating like rapid heartbeats. Rey wrapped one arm around herself, clutching his hand with hers. She stretched up with her other arm, running her fingers through his hair. She was grateful for the tall heels that brought her closer to god, closer to Ben, and she deliberately tugged him tighter so she could press her ass harder against his groin. A stirring was the only response she needed.

 _Let's get out of here_. She wasn't sure whose mind it was, calling out the instructions, maybe it was both of theirs at once, but it was definitely her voice that said, "Go. Now."

Their exit and their drive passed in a blur, each second ticking closer to the inevitable storm that they were chasing. Her mission directive, forgotten, and all she wanted to uncover was the mystery of what Ben looked like, preferably clothes-less.

The driver pulled into an underground garage and Ben got out of the vehicle before the engine could be killed.

"Mr. So—" one bald guard began and Ben raised a hand in silence. "Remain here." He reached over, grabbed Rey by the arm, and tugged her from the car, scooping her effortlessly into his arms. She shrieked in delighted shock as he carried her to a secured elevator. He punched in a code, the doors opened, and he strode in with his precious bundle.

The instant the doors sealed them in, he dipped his face to hers, hungrily kissing her lips, probing her mouth with his tongue. She kissed him hard in response, releasing ravenous moans and gripping his head with both of her hands. She wriggled to escape from his fireman's carry, all she wanted was to ravish him, but he tightened his embrace.

"You're so drunk," he gasped when he came up for air. "You'll break – _mmm_ – your ankle on those fuck-me heels."

"Are we – _gasp_ – at some penthouse of yours?" she said, with a hint of snark.

"One of many." He nipped sharply on her bottom lip. The doors dinged and opened and he did not stop kissing her even as he carried her through a dark foyer, down a tiled hallway, and Force-pushed a bedroom door open. Only there did he gently set her on the bed and with a flick of his finger, turned the lights on low.

She flopped back onto the bed, her eyes adjusting to the light and still a bit dizzy from the booze. "One of many," she repeated with a laugh. "Your bedroom is probably bigger than my apartment." She brought herself up to her elbows and opened her mouth to make some other witty comment but was struck dumb.

Ben had already partially-stripped, wearing only his trousers, and was unlatching his wristwatch when he caught Rey's eyes. She was unabashed in the way she stared at him, drank him in. "Oh, _fuck_ me," she whispered. His hair was messy and a bit sweaty, his face flushed and dewy. His shoulders, down his chest, down to his lightly-fuzzy belly were all made of thick muscle. His forearms, _goddamn!_ She wanted to feel them crushing her against him. He was stunning.

"That's the plan," he said, tossing his watch on the nightstand. Then, he dove in, kissing her again, and she reached eagerly for his waist.

"Uh-uh-uh," he chided, swatting her hand away. "I want to go first." He pulled her up so she was sitting at the edge of the bed. He knelt down and carefully undid the tiny straps of her shoes, slipping her feet from their prisons. _Fuck_ , _he'd make a sexy shoes salesman_. He stood her up and turned her around. He brushed her hair away from her neck, and his breath was hot on her skin as he took the zipper in one hand and slowly slid it down her spine, opening her dress and pushing it from her shoulders.

"Turn around," he commanded. He held an arm out for her to steady herself so she could step out of her dress. She stood before him, wearing only a black strapless bra, a thong with a garter belt, and a pair of thigh-highs.

"Fuck me," he echoed her words, breathlessly.

Rey stood in front of him, suddenly struck nervous by how near-naked she was and how his eyes skimmed over her body, eagerly and hungrily. She subconsciously willed the lights to darken, but he was quick to will them brighter.

"Don't," he whispered. "You are beautiful." He knelt down at her, almost worshipful, and undid the silken straps that held her stockings up. He gently rolled them down, careful to not tear the fragile fabric, his fingernails skimming her legs all the way.

Rey bit her tongue to keep from moaning. There was something delicious about the Skywalker Enterprises heir on his knees, at her feet, undressing her.

He rose, but not without his hands sliding up her sides the entire way. They stopped at her back.

"May I?" he said, suddenly remembering his manners.

The anticipation was killing her. "Take it off," she whispered.

With one quick movement, he unclasped her bra and he let it fall to the floor. Her nipples hardened in the cool air. It didn't bother her; she knew her tits were great and Ben was drinking in their sight. She felt a shudder in the Force. He was trying to fight himself, and he was losing. He needed her permission.

Rey wasn't a shy partner. She was positively throbbing down below, her body eagerly readying. She reached for his crotch again, this time without resistance, and she savagely ripped his belt away, unzipped his trousers, and pushed them off his hips. His cock was already straining against his boxer-briefs, cast to full attention. She couldn't help but utter an approving moan as she tip-toed up for a kiss, clenching his ass in both of her hands, digging her nails deeply as if to claim ownership.

That was all he needed. He pushed her back onto the bed, tearing her panties off and she writhed naked under him, moaning in his mouth. He broke their kiss, and pressed his lips to her neck, down between her breasts, across her belly, and on the insides of her thighs. She squealed and gasped and wiggled at each touch, arching her ass toward him in a desperate play, begging for release.

He looked up at her, her legs framing his head, his shaggy black hair all a mess and he smiled. "Patient, Rey," he murmured and let his tongue tease her, relishing the flavor of the salt and sweat of her skin and taking in the sweet, organic scent of her pussy.

She was clean-shaven, entirely. She must have been expecting something. He grinned devilishly at what she must have been planning, and let the tip of his tongue probe her plump lips. She whimpered piteously and gripped his hair in her fingers.

"Do you want me to taste you, Rey?" he asked, innocently. His breath was hot and tickled her skin.

"Yes," she gasped. "Please."

"Show me how you like to do it," he said. "How you do it to yourself."

"You want me to masturbate?" Normally, the idea would have repulsed her, but there was something unbearably appealing about having Ben as her forbidden voyeur.

"Just a moment. I want to know what you like."

Rey hesitated a moment, wondering if she should just push a memory to him through the Force. But she knew better than to try to challenge him, so she obeyed.

She leaned back on the small mountain of pillows and spread her legs a bit. She grazed two fingers down between her lips and she gently began to move them around in little circles. She was wet, oh so wet, and she rubbed herself tenderly. Her other hand firmly pinched a nipple. She moaned in short, little gasps, surprisingly aroused at how much she enjoyed Ben's penetrative and serious gaze as he watched her, her silent and rapt audience.

"What are you thinking about when you touch yourself?" His voice was husky and thick. Rey didn't need to reach into his mind to know how he was feeling. His neck muscles twitched and his hands clenched. His throbbing was palpable. She half-expected his cock to spring out of his boxers like a premature jack-in-the-box.

"How good it feels," she said, sliding a finger inside. Her toes curled. He bit his bottom lip in response.

"Who do you think about?"

"Right now, it's you," she confessed before the quieted, sober Rey in the back of her mind could stop her. She slid another finger in and emitted a little cry. _Yes, yes, it's you, you gorgeous fucking jerk, you've been on my mind since I met you._

He called for her to stop. He took her fingers and sucked on them, licking them clean.

"Delicious," he murmured. "I want more." He went down again, this time knowing just where she liked it best. With one hand, he cupped her ass so he could crush her to his face, and the other reached up and pinched her nipple.

"Fuck," Rey cried out. Ben knew all the places to touch, the right amount of pressure, the right amount of twisting and kissing. Never had a partner been so in tuned with her body. She pushed herself toward him, gasping and moaning. He was an artist; she was his muse. He licked and teased, sucked and nibbled, knowing just where she wanted him to go next, knowing which nerve to electrify. He was inside her head, anticipating her next desire, and fulfilling it.

He brought her to the precipice of orgasm over and over again, stepping back down a notch just enough to cool her, then bringing her back again and again, sucking and kissing and licking and tasting and twisting and pinching and doing it with growing, feverish intensity until her breathing grew into panting and her throat tightened her gasps and her ass muscles quivered and then he just pushed it all until-

" _Ah! Fuck! Yes-yes-oh-god-Ben-!"_ she cried out as the orgasm reached its crescendo, her thighs fiercely tightening around his head and her fingers in his hair, and he gripped her tightly, forcing her ejaculate into his mouth, moaning with her as she trembled and quivered in the aftershocks.

She fell back on the pillows, gasping for breath and Ben only crawled up, a sneaky little smile on his face. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Was that nice?"

"Nice?" Rey panted. "Are you kidding me? I've never come like that before in my life."

"Just you wait." He peeled his boxer-briefs away, his cock springing out eagerly. It was long, fat, and heavy, with a thicket of black curls, and Rey gnawed on her bottom lip. It had been so long since the last thing she had fucked wasn't made of silicone.

He straddled her, his legs long and muscled and covered in a wisp of black hair to match, and then leaned down to hold her arms over her head. His hands were so big, one could easily pin both of her wrists down.

Rey wriggled a bit under him, craving more. If that was the appetizer, she couldn't wait for the main course.

"Greedy girl," he murmured in her ear, his teeth grazing her earlobe. "Where are your manners?"

"Please," she begged.

"Mmm," was all he said, kissing her neck down to her breasts to take a nipple in his mouth. He sucked on it heartily, as if he were drinking some sweet nectar, and her pussy throbbed and she could _feel_ herself dripping. Then, he moved to the other nipple, nibbling at it gently, sucking hard till both of her nipples were reddened, wet, and engorged.

"Do you know how badly I've wanted to do this," he purred, kissing her neck. He inhaled deeply to relish her scent and his cock twitched at her moans. "Since the moment you walked into my office in that tight little skirt and I wanted to take you on my desk, right then."

"Then—" Rey gasped as he grazed her nipples again. "Then, what are you waiting for?"

He growled a bit, and with his free hand, reached down to guide his cock into her. She was eager, so eager, so ready, as he slid inside of her, and she took him effortlessly, gasping and crying out. She squirmed under his grasp, wanting to grab him, to touch him, and she was driven mad by how much she wanted to touch him, to force him in harder and deeper, and it felt _so fucking good_ and he slid in and out with measured carefulness, and she cried out, begging,

" _Harder, please_!"

And still, he didn't release her hands and she moaned, pressing her legs tightly into his sides, hoping to force him in,

 _Just come, come in!_

but he was persistent and gentle and she became wetter and more desperate and then when she didn't think she could take it any longer, he let go of her hands and cradled her by the back of her head, pressing his forehead against hers –

 _Fuck, what am I doing?_

\- so close that their noses were touching and their mouths were panting into each other, their moanings and groanings in unison and she grabbed his ass again, that tight, delicious, perfect ass and she pressed him in, urging him to go harder, faster, _fuck me faster!_

 _Damn you, Ben, you're so wrong for me_

and he slid out, almost to the tip and she almost cried because it felt so wrong but felt so good, then she pushed him in, hard, wrapping her thighs around his, _fuck me, fuck me,_ and then he pushed in again, and again, harder, fiercer, matching her hummingbird's pulse,

until all she could think and feel was him inside her, him, him,

all she wanted was Ben and he fucked with a furious passion, with each thrust

 _Ben!_

propelling her closer and closer to the edge, that glorious cock of his slick with her sex,

 _Yes! Ben!_ Fuck _!_

when all of a sudden, they cried out together, and her vision sparkled black, and her insides quivered and trembled around him as he released in her, filled her up, it was orgasmic, cosmic, was this God, united flesh, she couldn't stop shaking, this felt so wrong – no, it was _right!_ and how it was oh so-

"Fuck—" he gasped, collapsing on top of her, the aftershocks of her orgasm still quaking. He was out of breath, clinging to her, their bodies sweaty and sticky and hot.

"Fucking amazing," she finished.


End file.
